Can You Canoe?
by amythis
Summary: When Gilligan finds a canoe, the Professor thinks the crew should be Gilligan and Mary Ann, but Mrs. Howell thinks this would be improper. Set in 1972, obviously contains MAG, but also Pinger, with moments of other ships.
1. Gilligan

It was a typically beautiful, sunny afternoon on the island when Gilligan went fishing in the lagoon and landed himself a new life. Not that he knew this at first. He just thought it was a canoe.

"Hey, Skipper! SKIP-PER!" he shouted, as he would with any discovery, good or bad. And in eight years on the island, he had made a lot of discoveries.

"What is it, Little Buddy?" asked his boss and best friend, coming over. Then the Skipper reached up and grabbed his captain's hat in both hands. "A canoe! Good job, Gilligan!"

"Thanks. Can you help me reel it in? It's kind of heavy."

As the Skipper came over, and grabbed the rod above Gilligan's hands, he said, "Of course. Be careful. We don't want to damage it. This is our ticket off the island."  
"I don't know, Skipper. I don't think all seven of us can fit in there. Especially not with all the luggage the Howells brought."

The Skipper looked irritated for some reason, but he let it go. "No, Gilligan, you and I will steer the canoe into the shipping lanes and then we can get a rescue party for the passengers."

"Oh boy!" Gilligan said, it really sinking in now what this could mean for them all.

With the Skipper's brawn added, the canoe reached the shore like a beached shark.

"How's she look, Skipper? I don't see any holes or anything."

The Skipper examined the canoe. "She's in fine shape. And I bet she's yar."  
"Is it a pirate canoe?" Gilligan asked in confusion.

The Skipper looked irritated again. "Gilligan, how many years have you been a sailor?"

"Well, I haven't really been at sea much since we landed on the island."

" 'Yar' means she's easy to handle."

"Oh."

"Well, Gentlemen, what have we here?"

Gilligan looked up. "Oh, hi, Professor. Look what me and the Skipper just caught!"

"Well done. This may be our ticket off the island."

"That's what the Skipper said. And that she's yaaarrr!"

Now the Professor looked puzzled. For a smart guy, he sure got confused sometimes.

"Gilligan, you watch the canoe, while the Professor and I make a list of supplies and provisions we'll need for the voyage."

"Skipper, you weren't thinking of manning the canoe yourself, were you?"

The Skipper looked mad that the Professor was questioning his orders. "Of course I'm thinking of it! I'm the captain and no one knows more about boats than I do."  
"I don't question your expertise. It's just, well, it's a very narrow canoe and you're, well."

"Fat?" Gilligan suggested.

The Skipper took off his hat and hit Gilligan, who was expecting it.

"Let's say substantial. With such a vessel, I think the ideal would be to get a crew that's, well, as compact as possible. That way more supplies and provisions could be taken."

"Professor, if you're planning to go with Gilligan—"

"No, not I."

"Well, you're thinner than Mr. Howell. And I can't imagine him wanting to get on board anything smaller than a yacht. He thought he was slumming with _The Minnow_. Not to mention that he wouldn't want to do all that manual labor."

"No, no, it would have to be a woman."

"A woman?!" the Skipper shouted.

"Gee, I don't know, Professor. I don't think Mrs. Howell would like paddling a canoe any more than Mr. Howell would."

"No, I was thinking of Mary Ann."

"MARY ANN?!" the Skipper bellowed.

"Mary Ann?!" Gilligan squeaked.

"Yes, of course. She's petite but strong. And bright and hard-working."

"But she's a girl!" Gilligan silently added _A pretty girl._

"I think the women have proven that they can pull their own weight on the island, literally and figuratively. And we're living in changing times. Back home, women are striving for their rights."

"Professor, it's not a matter of 'women's lib.' It's a matter of, well, like Gilligan said. She's a girl. And he's not."

"Well, that's one reason I'm not suggesting we send Ginger."

Gilligan was very confused. He didn't think being alone in a canoe with Mary Ann would be any easier than being alone in a canoe with Ginger. Well, she might not try to kiss him as much. But he'd want to kiss her more.

"Let's run the idea by Mary Ann and see what she thinks."

The Skipper turned from the Professor to Gilligan. "Little Buddy, you stay here with the canoe."  
"Shouldn't I go with you?" It seemed like if they were going to ask Mary Ann, he should have something to say about it.

"No, you need to guard that canoe with your life."

"My life? From who? From what?"

"From wild animals. Or unscrupulous people."  
"What inscruta—I mean—"

"Let's go talk to Mary Ann. We've wasted enough time," the Professor said and strode back to the settlement. The Skipper followed, and it seemed like they were talking in whispers.

Gilligan thought about picking up the canoe and following them, but it was pretty heavy. So he sat down next to it on the sand, waiting for their return, and wondering what Mary Ann would say. Would she want to be alone with him in a canoe for however long it took to be rescued? And what would that be like for him?

Then Mr. Howell came along. "Oh, there you are, Gilligan. I want to get in a few rounds of golf before lunch and I need you to caddy."  
"Gee, I'm sorry, Mr. Howell. I can't. The Skipper told me to stay here with this canoe."  
"Dear Boy, I understand you have your naval duties, but—Did you say canoe?"

"Yeah, see?"

"It is a canoe, by George! And I've got the money to buy George!"

"Yeah, pretty neat, huh? Now we can finally get off the island."  
"Yes, we certainly can. Gilligan, how much do you want for that canoe?"

"Oh, gee, I couldn't sell it to you, Mr. Howell."

"Well, if you want to offer it as a gift, far be it from me to object."

"No, I mean I can't let you and Mrs. Howell man, uh, person this canoe."  
"Nonsense. Lovey can work hard when she sets her mind to it. Look what she did in the gold mine."  
"Yeah, that's true, but the Professor thinks it should be two people smaller than you, Mr. Howell."  
"Lovey and Mary Ann?"

"Well, you're half right. See, I would—"

"Sir, you are not going on a cruise alone with my wife!"

"No, it would be me and Mary Ann."

"You sly dog, you!"

"Huh?"

"Alone at sea with a beautiful young girl. No wonder you won't sell the canoe."  
"No, Mr. Howell, it's not like that. It's just that—"

"And the best part is, you two are small enough that you should be able to take some of my luggage along. I'll go pack some of my valuables but non-essentials."

"But, Mr. Howell—"

"Later, My Boy, later."

And Mr. Howell left.

"Oo, boy. 'Alone at sea with a beautiful girl.' "

"Sounds like a heck of a movie," said a breathy voice.

He looked up and wasn't surprised to see Ginger. "Hi, Ginger."

"Hi, Gilligan. Oo, where did you get the canoe?"

"I was fishing."

"That must've been some bait."

"No, it got caught on the—"

"Oh, Gilligan, you dear sweet boy!"

"Huh?"

"You want me to go with you!"

"You?"

"Well, you did say 'alone at sea with a beautiful girl.' "

"No, Mr. Howell said that."

"Why would Mr. Howell paddle a canoe?"

"No, see, I was just sitting here when—"

He was unable to finish because she knelt beside him and threw her arms around him. "You're the one who found the canoe, so you should go. And if you'll do most of the paddling, I'd be happy to go along. It will make a wonderful movie!" She kissed him till he felt dizzy. "I'll go pack!"

He remained too dizzy to reply until she was long gone. "Oo boy. Alone at sea with two beautiful girls!" No other heterosexual man could've said those words with such dread.


	2. The Skipper, Too

The Skipper admired the Professor. There was certainly no one else on the island who had so much of his respect. But book-smart though the Professor was, he didn't seem to know diddly-squat about men and women. Look at how he missed all of Ginger's far from subtle hints that she was crazy about him! If the Skipper had a gorgeous dame like Ginger coming on to him all the time, he certainly would've done something about it. And it wouldn't have taken eight years!

As they left Gilligan on the shore, the Skipper whispered, "Professor, you're going to send Gilligan and Mary Ann off in a canoe together?"

"I know what you're thinking."  
"You do?" Maybe he wasn't as hopeless as the Skipper thought.

"Yes, after Gilligan has bungled so many of our rescues, he may foul up this one. But I think with someone as level-headed as Mary Ann to restrain him, it'll be all right."

The Skipper considered himself at least as level-headed as Mary Ann, and he had never been able to knock any sense into Gilligan's thick skull. But that was beside the point. "No, I mean, a man and a woman. All alone in a little boat."

"Come now, Skipper, it's not as if I'm sending you and Ginger."

The Skipper almost blushed. He had a yen for Ginger, but he knew he wasn't her type. Still, he might become her type if they were alone in the canoe. He tried not to let his mind wander too far in that direction.

"And, although they're both nearly thirty, neither Mary Ann nor particularly Gilligan has ever struck me as libidinous."

It took the Skipper a moment to silently translate that. No, Gilligan wasn't exactly girl-crazy, not like the Skipper had been at his age. And Mary Ann was a sweet young thing, even after all these years. She probably knew the facts of life, having grown up on a farm, but he doubted she had any urges. Still, the sea could change people, as the Skipper well knew.

"Not to mention that a canoe is not exactly conducive to a seduction. Not a comfortable one anyway."

The Skipper didn't know how the Professor managed to make everything sound so reasonable, even when he was talking nonsense.

"Look, there's no harm in asking Mary Ann if she'll do it, is there?"

The Skipper thought that there was a chance that Mary Ann might slap both their faces, but he couldn't help being curious. "Well, I suppose we can ask. But if she says no, then how about I man the canoe by myself?"

"I think it's better to send two people, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

So they continued on to the girls' hut. The Skipper hoped that Ginger wouldn't be there. That would just add to the embarrassment.

Luckily, they found Mary Ann alone, sewing by hand rather than the pedal-powered machine.

"Hi, Skipper. Hi, Professor."  
"Hello, Mary Ann. May we ask you a question?"

"Of course, Professor. What is it?"

The Skipper braced himself for her shock.

"Well, we were just wondering. If you had a chance to save all of us by paddling a canoe into the shipping lanes, would you do it?"

"Of course I would!"

"Great! I'll go tell Gilligan." The Professor dashed out.

"Gilligan?" Mary Ann asked, looking at the Skipper. "Is this some sort of a bet?"

"No, not exactly." Thanks to the Professor's ineptitude with women, the Skipper would have to tell her himself. And he wasn't sure how to do this delicately. "You see, Gilligan found a canoe in the lagoon."

"He did? Oh, that's wonderful!"

"Yeah, it is."  
"But why would I be paddling it? I don't know much about boats. I mean, I grew up in Kansas."

"Well, I could teach you I guess." This was getting too complicated.

"But why wouldn't you just paddle it yourself?"

"Well, the Professor thinks it should be someone smaller than me."  
"Then why not Gilligan?"

He coughed. "Um, well, he thinks you and Gilligan should go."

"Me and Gilligan?! Ouch!" She'd just jabbed herself with the needle.

"He thinks it should be two people. Two small people."

"Why not me and Mrs. Howell then?"

"Because she wouldn't have the strength or interest to paddle a canoe."

"Well, that's true, but—Me and Gilligan!"

"I know, I know, it's crazy."

"Oh, so you don't think I could do it?"

"No, you could probably do it, but that's not the point. You and Gilligan alone, out on the ocean."

She blushed.

"I'm sorry to put it so bluntly." Well, it wasn't bluntly for a sailing man, but it was bluntly to say it to a girl like her.

"No, I know. It would be very—But if it could lead to us all getting rescued!"

"Look, don't do anything you're not comfortable with. I'll try to knock some sense into the Professor."  
"What does Gilligan think about this?"

"I think he feels funny about it."  
"Funny about it?"

"Well, you know how shy he is with girls."

"That's true."

"Of course, I don't know how shy he'd feel all alone with you."

She blushed again.

"Look, I'll go talk to the Professor. And Gilligan. We'll come up with some other plan. You don't need to worry your pretty little head about it."  
"Thanks, Skipper," she said quietly.

But before he could encounter either man, he ran into Mrs. Howell, who said, "Captain, I have an urgent matter to discuss with you."

He really hoped it wasn't that she wanted herself and Mr. Howell to paddle the canoe. If so, their rescue would be even more doomed than if they sent Gilligan. A suddenly libidinous Gilligan if they were really unlucky. OK, maybe the Howells would be a better choice.


	3. The Millionaire

"Lovey, I've got wonderful news!"

"Did Gilligan catch something gourmet for dinner? I'm so tired of the dreary seafood meals we've been having, especially lately."

"No, he didn't catch anything edible. Unless you're a woodpecker."

"A woodpecker?"

"Gilligan found a canoe in the lagoon!"

"Oh, how simply marvelous! I don't think we've had anything interesting wash up for ages."

"No, Lovey, you don't understand. This is our ticket off the island!"

"Oh, Thurston, I don't want to paddle a canoe. Couldn't we get Gilligan or Mary Ann to do it?"

"Funny you should say that. They're both going to."  
"Gilligan and Mary Ann? Not Gilligan and the Skipper?"

"Not this time."

"A young man and a young woman, all alone in a little canoe?"

"Yes." He tried not to daydream about that scenario.

"But that's improper!"

"Darling, it's Gilligan and Mary Ann. What could happen?" Well, he could imagine what could happen, but he was trying not to. When he'd run into the Professor on the way to the hut, he'd discovered that the Professor not only had come up with this scheme but seemed to see nothing risqué about it.

"That's beside the point. They're not married! They can't spend all those days and nights unchaperoned."  
"Lovey Dear, you're not suggesting you accompany them, are you?"

"Don't be absurd. I told you I don't want to go in a canoe. And it would be far too crowded."

"Well, I think it would be crowded with any three people. And I don't think Ginger would make much of a chaperone."

His wife shuddered at the idea. "Of course not. If it has to be a man and a woman, then it should be a married couple."

"But, Dear, you said you don't want to go in a canoe." Now that he'd had more time to think about it, he didn't especially want to either. He longed to go back to civilization, but not by his own, or Lovey's, physical efforts.

"Not us, Darling. I mean Gilligan and Mary Ann."

"But they're not married."  
"No, but they could be. Remember, the Skipper is empowered to perform marriage ceremonies at sea."

"You want Gilligan and Mary Ann to get married?"

"Oh, Thurston, I've wanted that for seven and a half years."

"Well, that's very sweet of you, Dearest, but I don't think they want to be married. To each other or anyone."  
"No, no, I talked to Mary Ann years ago, and she'd love to be married, even to Gilligan."

"Oh, well, nonetheless—"

"Besides, it's for everyone's good. If they're the ones who are going to try to reach civilization, then they'll have to do so as a couple."

"That's quite a sacrifice to make."  
"A pleasant sacrifice I would think."

"Well, nothing against wedded bliss, but I think the happy couple should have some say in whether or not they're going to become a happy couple."

"Well, look at this way, Thurston. They'll really get to know each other on their voyage, in a way that they can't with all these people around." She made it sound like they were in New York City, rather than in a settlement that hadn't even reached the double digits.

"That's true but what if they wind up hating each other?"

"Well, then they can get it annulled when they reach civilization."

He wondered if he should point out that that implied that Gilligan and Mary Ann wouldn't have consummated their union before the hatred set in. Of course, they could get a divorce instead. But that seemed a lot to put them through, just to satisfy his wife's scruples.

"Oh, Thurston, this is going to be such fun planning a wedding!"

"Uh, yes, I suppose it will." He was at a loss what to say next.

"I'd better go discuss this with the captain!" She dashed out before he could say that he wasn't even sure if the Skipper knew about the canoe.

After a minute, he realized that somebody had better warn Mary Ann that she was going to be a naval bride if this insanity wasn't stopped soon. He didn't often chat with the girl. She was much less bribable than Ginger, and he'd never have been able to have her vamp Gilligan or anyone else for his purposes, so there simply wasn't much reason to talk to her one-on-one. And he didn't exactly relish the idea of telling her what the egghead and Mrs. Howell had each cooked up. But he knew he had to do it. He could hardly let the Skipper do it!

So he made his way to the girls' hut. Good, she was on her own. This would be easier than if Ginger were around.

"Hello, Mary Ann."  
"Hello, Mr. Howell." She was sewing but seemed distracted. Had the others already got there before he had? Well, there hadn't been any time for Mrs. Howell to suggest the wedding, unless she'd decided to talk to the bride before the officiant.

"Might I have a word with you?"

"Of course." She set down her sewing.

"I don't know if you've heard about the canoe Gilligan found—"

"Oh, I heard."

"Well, I don't know if you heard about the Professor's absurd plan to send you and—"

"I heard that, too."

"Well, then. What do you think?" He decided he might as well know where he was starting from.

She sighed. "Well, of course I want to help everyone, but I would feel funny about going alone with Gilligan, even if he is sweet and innocent."

He could've remarked that she was also sweet and innocent, but he didn't want her to take that the wrong way. "Right."

"I mean, an unmarried man and woman!"  
"Yes. Well, you may or may not be pleased to hear that Lovey has a solution for that."  
"She does?"

"Yes, she thinks you should marry Gilligan."  
"Me marry Gilligan?!"

"Oo, can I be your bridesmaid?" Ginger had returned.


	4. And His Wife

She was in luck. She found the Skipper soon after she set out. "Captain, I have an urgent matter to discuss with you."

"Yes, Mrs. Howell?"

He sounded a tad impatient. No doubt he was eager to prepare the canoe for its departure, but this was equally vital, if not more so. After all, if he didn't perform the marriage ceremony, then Gilligan and Mary Ann weren't going anywhere. At least not if Mrs. Howell had anything to say about it.

"I've heard about the canoe that Gilligan found."

"Good grief! Don't tell me you want to go in it?"

"Don't be absurd. I don't like canoes. Especially if I have to do my own paddling."

"Well, good. Now if you don't mind—"

She was not about to be snubbed by him. "Skipper, as I understand it, Gilligan and Mary Ann are planning to go, but I can't allow this."

"You can't allow it? As captain, I think I have more say in who should or shouldn't be in the canoe."

"That's exactly why I wanted to talk to you!" He could be surprisingly perceptive at times.

"Huh?"

"Now, I think an evening ceremony would be best, particularly as it's summer."

"Mrs. Howell, why would we have the launching ceremony in the evening? It'd be better to have as much daylight as possible when setting out."

"Launching ceremony?" She laughed. Perhaps he wasn't that perceptive. "I meant the wedding ceremony."  
"What wedding ceremony?"

"For Gilligan and Mary Ann of course."

"Mrs. Howell, I'm not even sure about having them on a boat together, let alone on a honeymoon!"

"Now, Captain, it'll be perfectly all right and proper once they're married. Something simple but tasteful. Obviously, time is a factor. We all want to be rescued as soon as possible of course."

"Of course," he murmured, as if this was overwhelming.

"So I don't think we can take more than a month to plan it. Of course, we won't have to worry about caterers or any of the usual trimmings."

"Mrs. Howell, besides the fact that I don't think Mary Ann or especially Gilligan wants to get married—"

"Oh, I'm sure Mary Ann would like to get married. Every young girl does. Well, maybe not Ginger."

"Yeah, maybe not Ginger."

"And as for Gilligan, you can talk him into it. Or Mr. Howell could. Especially when it's for the, excuse the expression, the common good."

"Mrs. Howell, even if the two of them wanted to get married, how exactly would I perform the ceremony?"

"The same way you did for me and Mr. Howell."  
"The groom fell in the lagoon! And Gilligan is a lot clumsier than Mr. Howell."  
"That's true. I know! Why not use the canoe?"

"Me, Gilligan, and Mary Ann in the canoe?"

"Oh, and Ginger. She'll probably want to be maid of honor again." Not that Ginger was exactly a maiden, let alone one of honor, but Eunice Wentworth Howell was too much of a lady to mention that.

"And I suppose the Professor would be Gilligan's best man, since I'll be busy."  
"Well, of course. Thurston can't, since someone will have to give the bride away."

"And what about you? You wouldn't want to miss out on the wedding, would you? Not after all your planning."  
She sighed. "True, I do love weddings." It wouldn't exactly be high society, but it would be a wedding. She wondered if she'd cry. She did feel almost maternal towards Gilligan and Mary Ann at times.

"Mrs. Howell," the Skipper sounded like he was about to lose his temper for some reason, "how exactly are seven people going to fit in a canoe?"

"Oh, you have a point. What a pity that it wasn't a larger boat that Gilligan caught. Of course then we could all leave the island together, and we wouldn't have this problem."

"Yes, what a pity."

"Why don't I go find Gilligan and ask him to try for a larger boat next time?"

"Yeah, you do that."

She needed to talk to Gilligan about the wedding anyway, just in case he didn't get a larger boat. And even if he did, well, maybe they could have the wedding after all. She'd tried to matchmake Gilligan and Mary Ann before, but that wasn't long after they all landed on the island, and they didn't know each other as well then. She also sometimes had hopes of the Professor and Ginger, but this seemed a surer thing. Gilligan and Mary Ann were used to doing what people told them to do, and this was for their own good.

She found Gilligan by the lagoon, sitting next to the canoe. It was indeed far too small for seven people. She and Thurston could've gone, but they might have had to leave some of their luggage behind. It really might be best to send the two young people, who had such simple needs, and simple wardrobes.

"Oh, hi, Mrs. Howell. Neat canoe, huh?"

"Yes, very nice. And I think it's very brave of you to agree to set out in it."

"Well, I didn't exactly agree. It was more like I was drafted."

"Nonetheless, you're a brave, dear boy, who wants to do the right thing."

"Yeah, I guess."

"And part of doing the right thing is doing things in the right way."  
"Uh, is this about what fork I'm supposed to use?"  
"Not this time. Gilligan, do you like Mary Ann?"

"Of course. I like all of you. I can't think of six people I'd rather have been marooned with."  
"That's very sweet of you. And Mary Ann is sweet, too, isn't she?"

"Yeah, she's real nice. She hardly ever yells at me."

"Yes. She's going to make somebody a wonderful wife someday."  
"She sure is, the way she cooks. But we'd have to get off the island first." The boy suddenly looked as if a thought had actually crossed his mind. "I guess if we reach civilization, she'll be able to meet eligible men. And then she can get married."  
"She might not have to wait that long."

"What do you mean?"

"You're eligible, aren't you?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess."

"Why don't you marry her?"

"Me?" His voice broke. "We're not even going steady!"

"Gilligan, there's no time for a long engagement, let alone an engaged-to-be-engagement."

"Engagement?!"

"My Dear, I'll be frank with you. I can not allow you to go off onto the high seas in this rickety little boat—"

"Rickety?"

"With Mary Ann without marrying her first."

"Yeah, but I—"

"I'm sure you'll see reason. Now shall I talk to Mary Ann or would you like to propose to her directly?"

"Pruh-pruh-propose?"

"Shy as ever. All right, I'll go smooth the path for you." And she left him by the lagoon.


	5. The Movie Star

On her way back to the hut, Ginger saw the Professor at a distance. Oh drat, what was she going to do about the Professor?

It wasn't as if he'd ever really noticed her, let alone been the jealous type. To be honest, she hadn't paid him much attention the first few months on the island. He wasn't exactly her type. Oh, he was very handsome, easily the handsomest man on the island, not that that was saying much. But even in Hollywood, he might've turned a few heads. The problem was he was an intellectual, and not a fun intellectual, like Einstein. (Marilyn Monroe used to claim that she'd bedded the Father of Relativity, but Ginger was never sure how much to believe that poor delusional girl.)

To be more honest, her first few months on the island, she thought Gilligan might be a better target. Yes, he was like a shy fawn, but he was young and pliable. Even when the Professor buried his nose in her neck, to sample her perfume he claimed, she still didn't think of him "that way." It wasn't until Mrs. Howell suggested making surfer Duke Williams jealous in order to get him to leave the island, that the Professor looked like a possible prospect.

As part of the plan, Mary Ann had tried teaching Gilligan how to smooch, but the Professor didn't seem like he needed any lessons. Ginger had already given Gilligan his first few kisses (when he wasn't knocking himself out against a tree or a pillar of his hut), but some lucky lady had beaten Ginger to the Professor's first, probably fifteen or twenty years earlier.

But that was as far as it ever went, a few passionate kisses each year, and that was all. And it was always because of outside circumstances, usually involving their rescue. She couldn't say he was totally uninterested in her, but she couldn't say he was terribly interested either.

As for her, well, despite the frustration, she was still drawn to him, even after all these years. It might seem like they had nothing in common, but in fact she'd had her most serious conversations on the island with him. Like the time that they thought that a missile was going to destroy their island, and they'd both admitted to feeling like they'd wasted their lives. Or the time they teamed up to raise the morale of the others by pretending she was psychic.

She didn't think she was in love with him. It was too one-sided for that, and she wasn't the type of girl to get too hung up on someone where it was unrequited. But if he ever returned her feelings, then she suspected those feelings would grow.

And now here she was going away in a canoe with Gilligan. It wasn't because she had designs on Gilligan. She'd long since given up on that. Besides, she could see that he and Mary Ann had crushes on each other, even if they were too shy and innocent to do anything about it. No, she just wanted to go because it would mean that she'd get to Hollywood that much sooner.

They would send a rescue party for the others of course, but that would take extra time. And she was, although she hated to admit it, nearing middle age. How much longer could she be a starlet? It wasn't like she was Thelma Ritter, a character actress who didn't depend on her looks. Ginger knew she had talent, but she also knew that glamour was equally important. Yes, she could be glamorous in middle age—look at the Gabor sisters—but it wouldn't be the same.

She was a little worried about how Gilligan had referred to her as a beautiful girl when he was talking to himself. What if if he, less inhibited alone at sea, made advances to her? What if she found she didn't want to resist his advances?

She felt oddly unfaithful to the Professor, although obviously there was no commitment there. She would need to make him understand that she wasn't going with Gilligan because she was on the make for Gilligan. It was just that Gilligan was the one with the canoe.

"Oh, hello, Ginger."  
"Hello, Professor."

"Have you heard the news about the canoe?"

"Yes, I was just talking to Gilligan."

"Isn't it exciting?"

"Yes, very."

"I just talked to Mary Ann, and I think she's willing."  
"Mary Ann?"  
"Yes. Once the Skipper gives her some paddling lessons, I think she'll do fine."

It sank in. Mary Ann was the beautiful girl Gilligan was talking about. And then it hit her. Maybe Gilligan wasn't going. Maybe the Professor was. And poor sweet Gilligan was upset about the Professor being all alone with Mary Ann. Ginger wasn't too happy about that herself.

The Professor continued, "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to go tell Gilligan. The two of them will have to start preparing for their voyage and—"

"The two of them?"

"Yes, Gilligan and Mary Ann."

Ginger was so happy that she gave the Professor a big hug.

"Uh, yes, as I was saying, it's very exciting that we'll finally be leaving the island. Once they send a rescue party for us."

Much as Ginger wanted to leave the island, at that moment she was beaming for quite another reason. The Professor wasn't going anywhere with Mary Ann. He was staying right on the island with Ginger, until it was time for them all to leave.

Then the other part sank in. She let go and looked at him. "Gilligan and Mary Ann?"

"Yes, that's what I said. Ginger, are you feeling all right?"  
Suppressing a giggle, she said, "Yes, never better." Ha, those two innocent fawns alone on that canoe! Would they stay innocent?

"Good. Well, I'll talk to you later. I have to update Gilligan."  
"Of course." And she had to go talk to Mary Ann.


	6. The Professor

"Well, I hope you're happy with what you've started."

The Professor looked up from the list of provisions he'd begun. He assumed that the Skipper would be drawing up one as well, but there was no harm in making one himself. He wasn't sure how long Gilligan and Mary Ann would be out in the canoe, but he decided to include citrus fruits to prevent scurvy, and a fishing rod and bait to supplement their diet.

He looked over at the indignant millionaire. "I beg your pardon?" He'd learned years ago that it was best to remain calm when the more hot-tempered castaways got overwrought about something, usually minor.

"Now Gilligan has to marry Mary Ann!"

The Professor's eyes widened. He'd simply suggested that they take a canoe voyage together. "He has to marry her?"

"Well, you know how my wife is."

In the short interval since Gilligan was left on the beach, had he seduced Mary Ann? And then had Mrs. Howell discovered this and insisted on Gilligan making an honest woman of Mary Ann? That was fast work!

"And there is no way that she'll allow an unmarried couple on an unchaperoned canoe trip."

"Oh, I see." He should've foreseen such an objection. "But this is Gilligan and Mary Ann we're discussing. Gilligan is hopelessly naive and, as I told the Skipper, I can't see anything libidinous ensuing under the circumstances."

"Libid—You mean hanky-panky?"

"Yes, if you want to put it that way."

"Well, Gilligan is still a man. A sailing man. And things can happen at sea."

"Be as that may, I'm not overly concerned."  
"Well, Mrs. Howell is. And even if nothing happens, she thinks it would look improper. So she's planning their wedding."

The Professor shook his head. This was the height of irrationality, and they didn't have time for such nonsense.

"I know, I know. But she's unbudgeable on this. So I suggest you and the Skipper come up with a different crew. Or you'd better prepare your wedding toast."

"Toast?"

"Yes, you'll be best man. The Skipper will be officiating."

The Professor sighed wearily. "I simply wanted to use the simplest, most sensible method to achieve our rescue."

"Sensible?"

"Now it's being surrounded by all this idiocy."

As if answering a cue, Gilligan chose that moment to knock on the door. The Professor realized that he'd never actually gone back to talk to Gilligan. He'd had every intention after he spoke to Mary Ann and she seemed agreeable. But then he'd been distracted by Ginger. That hug she gave him had put almost everything else out of his mind. There was something about that woman, even after eight years, that could turn his well-disciplined mind to mush.

Not that he ever let her know that. He was sure he would be at best a distraction for her. She was used to the attentions of various men. He didn't blame or judge her for that. But it did mean that he assumed that she wouldn't have given him a second glance off the island. He had too much pride to be a mere toy for the actress, no matter how beautiful and desirable she was.

"Come in, Gilligan."

"Hi, Professor. Oh, good you're here, Mr. Howell. I was looking for you. I have to ask you something personal."

"Should I step outside?" the Professor asked, more amused than offended.

"Well, I guess you can stay, since it is your hut. And maybe you can help, too."  
"I'll do what I can."

"What's this all about, My Boy?"

"Well, I need advice on proposing marriage." Mr. Howell gave the Professor a _See what you've done?_ look. Then Gilligan said, "Professor, have you ever proposed to a woman?"

"Just once." It wasn't a memory he usually shared, nor one he cared to excavate for himself. And he didn't count his "proposal" to Erika Tiffany Smith, because that was a misunderstanding.

"Really? How did it go?"

"Well, Gilligan, you may've noticed I live in this hut alone."

"In that case I'd better ask Mr. Howell."  
Mr. Howell sighed wearily. "If you must."

"Thanks. Now, I know you took Mrs. Howell to that restaurant on 47th or 52nd Avenue, but I can't really do that, since there aren't any restaurants on the island, and if we opened one, Mary Ann might get suspicious. But maybe you could tell me what you said to Mrs. Howell to make her say yes."

An unusually reflective and sentimental expression came over Mr. Howell's face. "Yes. I took her hand and said, 'Lovey My Darling, what do you say we open a joint savings account?' "

"Gee, I don't think that's going to work. We don't have a bank on the island either."

"Gilligan," the Professor said, "you don't have to marry Mary Ann if you don't want to." He wanted to leave the island as much as anyone, but there was no reason to ask for a lifetime commitment between the canoers.

Gilligan looked more serious than the Professor had ever seen him. "I know. But I was thinking about it. And she's a really great girl. She's sweet and pretty and a great cook. I'd be really lucky to have a wife like her."

"Sounds like you found your proposal, Gilligan."

For once, the Professor agreed with Mr. Howell. "Yes, just tell her that."

"I'd be too embarrassed to say all that! It's bad enough telling you guys!"

"Well," Mr. Howell said, "you'll have to say something to her if you want her to marry you."

"I know. Well, I guess I'll come up with something. Thanks anyway."

After Gilligan left, Mr. Howell said, "That boy is hopeless."

The Professor agreed but he didn't think he'd do much better in Gilligan's place. The Professor had a much more extensive vocabulary than Gilligan, but not for matters of the heart.

"I think if Lovey wants this wedding, she's going to have to talk Mary Ann into it."

"Do you think Mary Ann has any feelings for Gilligan?" The Professor was never sure. She was sweet to Gilligan but then she was sweet to everyone. And she wasn't nearly as demonstrative as Ginger.

"Oh, she has feelings. But she's not any better about doing something about them than he is."

"Well, if they get married, fine. But if it doesn't happen, and if your wife refuses to let them go, then I'm afraid we'll have to send Gilligan alone."

"Then we'll never be rescued!" Mr. Howell exclaimed.

The Professor hoped that Mr. Howell was wrong.


	7. And Mary Ann

"Well, if you two are planning the wedding, I think I'm what the French call de trop."

"But, Mr. Howell, you'll need to step in as father of the bride and give Mary Ann away."

"Me? I'm hardly old enough to be the girl's big brother! Not to mention that means I'd have to pay for this farce of a ceremony."  
"I think you'd be a very debonair father of the bride."  
"Well, that's true. And you'll make a lovely bridesmaid."  
"Will you two please stop?" Mary Ann was getting tired of people coming into her hut and turning her life upside-down. First she was told that she would be in a canoe with Gilligan, trying to get them all rescued, and then she was being expected to marry Gilligan. And now Ginger and Mr. Howell were doing that thing they did that wasn't quite flirting but was a bantering that they allowed themselves and that Mrs. Howell tolerated. Mary Ann took marriage much more seriously, too seriously to marry on a whim, even someone she was as fond of as Gilligan.

"I'm sorry, Honey. I think you're right, Mr. Howell. It's time for some girl-talk."  
"And I think I need to talk to the boy responsible for this fiasco."

Mary Ann assumed that he meant the Professor, since it was the Professor's idea for her and Gilligan to be the canoe crew, but after Mr. Howell left, Ginger said, "I hope he's not too hard on Gilligan. After all, he didn't mean to cause all these complications when he found the canoe."

"No, I guess he didn't."  
"So, Mary Ann, what do you think of all this?"

"Well, I'm not going to marry Gilligan just because Mrs. Howell thinks I should."

"But would you marry him if he wanted to marry you? And not just to get off the island?"

Mary Ann blushed at the direct question. She and Ginger had of course talked about the three eligible bachelors on the island. How could they not? But the question of marriage had never seriously come up. How could it when none of the men had ever seriously courted them? If anything, she and Ginger had done more of the pursuing, although Mary Ann had always been shy and lady-like about her pursuit of Gilligan. She'd sometimes thought a more aggressive approach would be more successful, but it never seemed to work for Ginger, and it wasn't Mary Ann's style anyway.

"You like him, don't you?" Ginger continued.

"Well, yes."  
"As more than a friend?"  
"Yes. But I sometimes think Gilligan isn't ready for more than friendship."

"Not even alone at sea with you?"

"No, not even then."  
"Hm. Well, let's say you go ahead and get married, to please Mrs. Howell. Where's the harm? You make her happy. You two go off in the canoe, so we're all happy. And maybe you two will be happy."  
"Ginger!" Mary Ann was shocked. "I just told you—"

"No, Honey, I mean, you enjoy each other's company. You can have fun without 'having fun.' And if nothing happens, well, you can get it annulled."  
"Ginger, I'm a lot more old-fashioned than you. I take marriage very seriously. If and when I get married, I'd want it to be real and forever."

To her surprise, Ginger said, "That's what I'd want, too."  
"Really?"

"Really. My old roommate Debbie Dawson has gone through three marriages since we've been on this island, but I never wanted that kind of Hollywood lifestyle. If I ever got married, it would be for keeps."

"I'm sorry, Ginger, I didn't mean to offend you."  
"It's all right. As for you and Gilligan, well, it's just possible that marriage may be the nudge he needs to realize he loves you."

Now Mary Ann blushed like a tropical sunset. "Ginger!"  
"Do you love him?"

"Why are you asking me all these embarrassing questions?"

"Because you're like my kid sister. And once we get rescued, we'll probably go our separate ways and I'll never have the chance to ask you these things."

"Well, in that case, 'Sis,' let me ask you something."

"What?"

Before she could choose from the many questions she had about men and love and related matters, Mrs. Howell burst in. Mary Ann sighed. Everyone had been to see her that day. They were all apparently running all over the island, talking to each other, while she just sat there, wishing she could get back to her sewing. The one person who hadn't yet visited her was the one she was most eager and yet most dreading to speak with: Gilligan.

"Hello, Girls, I have something to discuss with you."

"If it's about the wedding, your husband already beat you to it," Ginger said.

"Oh, good, that will save me time explaining. Now I'm afraid we have a couple complications."  
"Complications?" Mary Ann repeated.

"Just minor ones. First of all, the Skipper will of course be performing the ceremony, but unfortunately the only vessel we have at the moment is the canoe, and I'm afraid it's going to be too small for the wedding party."

"That is a problem." Ginger looked as if she was trying not to laugh.

"But I'm sure that the men can build a craft that can float in the lagoon long enough for the ceremony, and we can leave them to sort that out."

"What's the second complication?" Mary Ann asked, deciding not to ask why the men didn't just build a vessel big enough for all of them and usable beyond the lagoon.

"Well, it's Gilligan."  
"That is a problem," Ginger said again.

"Yes, but I mean specifically that he's too shy to propose."

"Does Gilligan even want to marry me?" Mary Ann had to ask.  
"Of course he does. Why wouldn't he?"  
"You are quite a catch," Ginger gently teased.

"I thought it would help if I could tell him that you'll say yes."

Mary Ann was a little annoyed by the assumption, but she realized that it was true. If Gilligan asked her to marry him, even if it was only so they could pilot the canoe together, well, she wouldn't have the heart to turn him down. She sighed. "Yes, go ahead and tell him."

Both of the other women squealed with delight. Then Mrs. Howell left, presumably to tell the good news to Gilligan.

"You're doing the right thing," Ginger said.

"I certainly hope so."

"My, my, the two of you having your honeymoon in a canoe!"

"Ginger, please don't tease me about this."

"I can't help it." Then the redhead laughed. "I just thought of something."  
Mary Ann was almost afraid to ask but did. "What?"

"What about your curse?"

"My curse?"

"Yes, you two may be gone for weeks. What are you going to do about your curse?"

Mary Ann felt utterly embarrassed again. She and Ginger had managed that time of the month for years, with none of the men realizing anything about their cycles. (Mrs. Howell had gone through The Change before the shipwreck.) Sharing a hut, Mary Ann and Ginger had soon synced up their cycles, just like real sisters would've. But the next time Mary Ann's Aunt Flo came for a visit, her roommate would be Gilligan!


	8. The First Mate

"Mary Ann, I think you're really neat. I mean in the groovy sense, although you are very tidy, too. I would be honored if you'd marry me and be my oar-mate. No, that's not right. Paddle-mate?"

"Gilligan, are you talking to yourself?"

"Oh, hi, Mrs. Howell. No, I was trying to figure out what to say for my proposal."

"Whatever you say, Dear Boy, I'm sure she'll say yes."  
"Really?" He wondered what made Mrs. Howell so sure. Did Mary Ann like him as more than a friend? Or was she just desperate to get married after so long on the island? Or maybe she just wanted to leave the island. He wasn't sure what he was feeling. But marrying Mary Ann seemed to be the right thing to do, for a lot of reasons.

"Yes, go to her, Gilligan. Strike while the iron is hot."  
"I could never hit a woman! Especially Mary Ann. And if she's ironing, maybe I should wait."

"A figure of speech. The time is right."  
"OK, if you say so." It was Gilligan's habit to agree with whoever he spoke with. And everybody he spoke with seemed to want this. Well, he hadn't talked to the Skipper about it, but if the Skipper was going to perform the ceremony, then he must think it was the right thing to do.

Gilligan left Mrs. Howell and headed towards the girls' hut. He was about to knock, when he heard the girls talking. He knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but he wondered if they were talking about him. They probably were, if Mary Ann was expecting him to propose. So he listened, hoping it would give him a clue what to say.

And that was how he found out that Mary Ann was cursed! Wow, and she'd never said anything! She must be real brave! He felt sorry for her, but then he realized that if she was cursed, she shouldn't be going on this canoe trip. He had enough bad luck of his own. If it was combined with her curse, the voyage was doomed from the start.

He wondered who else knew about the curse. Obviously not the Professor, but he probably would've just said it was silly superstition. Maybe Ginger was the only one Mary Ann had told. The girls shared a lot of secrets, since they were like sisters, different though they were from each other.

Gilligan decided he had better talk to the Skipper, who knew all about things like that. Maybe there was a way to remove the curse, some kind of voodoo ceremony.

He returned to his hut and found the Skipper.

"Gilligan, what are you doing here? I told you to watch the canoe."

"Oh, yeah, sorry. I got distracted."

To his surprise, the Skipper chuckled. "Well, I guess that's understandable under the circumstances." He shook his head. "All this with Mary Ann."  
"You know?"

"Yeah, Mrs. Howell told me."

"She knows?"

"Of course she knows. If you're referring to the ceremony for—"

"Yeah, Skipper, I am! What should I do?"

"Uh, during the ceremony? Or after?"

"Oh, I'm not worried about after." He knew how to paddle a canoe after all.

"You do?"

"Of course, Skipper. I was in the Navy."

"Well, yes, but we never did have the birds and the bees talk."  
"There are birds and bees in the ceremony?" He hoped he wouldn't have to get stung! Well, he'd do it for Mary Ann, but he wouldn't like it.

"Well, no, but the ceremony lets the birds and bees, well, fly and buzz."

"Oh." Gilligan was still confused.

"But only if you two want them to."

"All right." That didn't sound too bad.

"Do you want to go through with the ceremony, Little Buddy?"

"Well, yeah, I really care about Mary Ann and I want her to be happy."

"But is this what you want?"

"Well, I think it's what everybody wants. Me included." After all, they all wanted to get off the island, and they couldn't do it if Mary Ann was cursed.

"In that case, I'll go through with it."  
"You know how to perform the ceremony?"

"Of course I do! It's hardly my first one."

It would be OK then. The Skipper would take care of everything.

"What should I do?"

"Gilligan, I think the most important thing for you to do is show up."

"I can do that."

The Skipper chuckled. "Good."

He was about to ask the Skipper if they should perform the voodoo ceremony before or after the wedding, when Mary Ann showed up. Gilligan blushed, thinking about the canoe and the wedding and the curse and everything.

"Um, hi, I just wanted to tell you—"

"Yeah, Mary Ann?" he asked shyly.

"Um, dinner will be a little late tonight."

"Oh, that's OK. I'm sure it's worth waiting for."  
"Thank you, Gilligan."

"Excuse me, I think I'm what wagoneers call a fifth-wheel," the Skipper said and exited the hut.

This was even more awkward than the time the Howells invited him and Mary Ann both to dinner and then left the room. He'd wondered later if Mrs. Howell was trying to matchmake him and Mary Ann. At that point, they'd done some smooching, taking turns sitting on each other's lap, to make Duke Williams the surfer jealous, but Gilligan actually thought back then that Ginger was the one with a crush on him. She was always backing him up against trees and hut-posts, although usually she wanted something from him, and not just smooches.

"So, Gilligan," Mary Ann said, and she seemed as shy and nervous as he was, "you found a canoe."

"Yeah. Uh, do you want to go on a voyage with me? I don't know how long it'll be, but I can't think of any mate I'd rather have." This was true. She'd be much less likely than the Skipper to hit him with her hat. Also, she'd eat less of the provisions.

"Oh, Gilligan! I'd love to!" Suddenly she was throwing her arms around him and kissing all over his face.

For a moment, he hoped that her curse wasn't contagious, and then he decided that this felt so good that it was worth the risk.


	9. The Captain

The Skipper was tempted to spy on the two young people, but they deserved their privacy. He still had his doubts about this marriage. Gilligan may claim he knew all about what married couples did, but did he? Maybe the Skipper should have a talk with him after all.

He still wasn't entirely reconciled to the idea of Mary Ann as the one to go in the canoe with Gilligan. It wasn't so much to do with propriety. He just wasn't sure she was capable of all that paddling. She was strong and sturdy for her size, but she was a petite woman. Of course, the Professor thought that part was a plus.

If there were more time, the Skipper would try to lose some weight before the wedding. But it seemed like the wheels were already in motion. If Gilligan didn't bungle things, he'd be setting off with his new bride. And the Skipper would just have to hope for the best.

He waited till Mary Ann left the hut before he went back in. She looked happy. Maybe Gilligan did know what he was doing.

His first mate was sitting in a daze, Mary Ann's lipstick all over his face. The Skipper smiled and handed Gilligan a handkerchief.

"Here. You may want to wipe off your fiancée's enthusiasm before joining the others for dinner."  
"Huh?"  
"The lipstick?"

Gilligan blushed and took the handkerchief. "Oh, yeah. Mary Ann sure likes to kiss."

"It looks like it."

As he wiped his face, Gilligan asked, "Do you think she'll want to kiss a lot when we're married?"

Uh oh. His little buddy was just as naive as the Skipper had feared. "I'm afraid so."

"Well, that'll be fun."

"Yeah, I'm sure it will be. Um, she may want to do more than kiss, once you're married."

"Like holding hands?"

"More than that."

"Hugging?"

"More than that."

"What else is there?"

"Well, married people share a bed."  
"They do?" Gilligan looked shocked. "But Mr. and Mrs. Howell don't!"

"Well, they've been married a long time."  
"So you stop sharing one after twenty years?"

"Some married people do, yes."  
"And then I'd start sleeping with a teddy bear?"

"That's one option." The Skipper had his suspicions that Mr. Howell would rather sleep with Ginger but would never do anything to hurt Mrs. Howell.

"Skipper, I don't see how that would work for me and Mary Ann."  
"Well, Gilligan, the man and the woman lie down on the bed and—"

"Yeah, but how are we going to fit a bed onto the canoe? I guess it'd be easier than fitting two beds. Oh! That's why Mrs. Howell wants me to marry Mary Ann."

"Well, yes, sort of."  
"To save room on the canoe."

"No, Gilligan, that's not why. And you're going to have to just sleep in bedrolls."  
"Separate bedrolls or should we share one?"

"I guess you could share one."

"That's gonna be kind of crowded."  
"I don't think you'll mind." The Skipper certainly wouldn't in his place, although Mary Ann wasn't really his type.

"I don't know, Skipper. What if she's a blanket hog like my brother was when we were little? A bedroll is all blanket, isn't it? That'd be worse than if she was a blanket hog in bed."

"Gilligan, never mind the sleeping arrangements!"

"That's easy for you to say, Skipper. You're going to have this hut all to yourself, and I'm going to be on a little canoe with a blanket hog."

"You don't know that she's a blanket hog. And even if she is, you'll probably be plenty warm."

"I don't know, Skipper. Even in the tropics, the nights get pretty cold."

The Skipper was trying not to let his mind wander off into fantasies. He was trying to be paternal with Gilligan. So he said, "Well, you might keep warm by snuggling."

"Oh, that would be fun. Hugging lying down."

"Yes, that's something married people do."

"Gee, this marriage thing doesn't sound bad after all. And I don't have to worry about her in-laws or anything."  
"Well, you will once you get rescued."  
"Oh, right. They'll probably think I'm a bum. Stuck in one job all these years, with no room for advancement."  
"I think they'll understand under the circumstances."

"I hope so. Gee, it's gonna be weird to go back to civilization with a wife!"

"Yes, I suppose it will."

"But it'll be weird going back anyway. I've gotten used to life on this island."

That was definitely true. Of all the castaways, Gilligan seemed the most contented. He got along with everyone, and he had all his animal pals, too. The Skipper wondered how Gilligan would readjust to civilization. Even for the Skipper, it would be a great change after so many years. Still, he was eager to find out.

For one thing, not to be too crude about it, but the Skipper would really like a dame. Gilligan had, or would soon have, Mary Ann. And that would probably nudge the Professor and Ginger closer together. The Skipper didn't begrudge the two couples. He'd known from the beginning that he was the odd man out. But that was the most important reason he wanted to go home. Even a T-bone steak couldn't compare to a willing woman.

"But one good thing."  
"What's that, Little Buddy?"

"I still get to eat Mary Ann's cooking."

The Skipper chuckled and thought that Gilligan didn't know just how lucky he was.

"One bad thing."  
"What?"

"How comfortable are we gonna be cuddling in a canoe? Even with bedrolls."  
"I think you'll find that when you're on your honeymoon, things like that won't bother you."

"I hope not."

Then Mary Ann called everyone to dinner, and the Skipper and Gilligan dropped the subject, for the moment anyway.


	10. The Rich Man

As he ate dinner, Mr. Howell couldn't help thinking that one aspect of this whole mad scheme that no one apparently had considered was that they were sending away their best cook for who knew how long. Yes, they would hopefully be rescued as a result, but meanwhile, how were they going to survive without her?

Not that it wasn't a sacrifice to give up Gilligan as caddy, errand-boy, and so on, but Thurston Howell III was used to sacrifices since the Skipper landed them on this uncharted desert island. These were sacrifices that Thurston Howell I and II had never had to make. He was proud of himself, and of Lovey, that they were made of such stern stuff. But asking them to eat Ginger's cooking or, perish the thought, the Skipper's, that was a bit much.

Still, this plan was moving forward, mad or not. Judging from the besotted if shy glances the engaged couple were exchanging, they were perfectly happy to get married. Thurston had been afraid that they were just being their usual pliable selves, going along with what the Professor and Lovey wanted, but it seemed that this was what they wanted as well. Of course, they probably never would've gotten together if it had been left to them. If a woman like Ginger couldn't get anywhere with the Professor, then an un-nudged Gilligan and Mary Ann probably would've spent a lifetime never doing more than exchanging glances.

The Skipper stood up with his coconut shell in one hand. "I'd like to propose a toast to the happy couple."  
The Professor cleared his throat. "Uh, isn't that my role as best man?"

"No offense, Professor, but you're only best man because I'm performing the ceremony."

Gilligan coughed. "Uh, Skipper, speaking of ceremonies, I was wondering if we could hold it tonight."

"Well, the lad is eager," Mr. Howell observed.

"Gilligan, this haste is most unseemly!" Lovey snapped.

"We haven't even had a chance to pack her trousseau," Ginger protested.

"A trousseau? They're not lugging a trousseau along in the canoe!" the Skipper objected.

"He's right. They're going to need that space for the citrus fruits," the Professor pointed out.

"And what about the raft for all of us?" Lovey asked. All the men were puzzled, so she continued, "Well, as the Skipper pointed out, we can hardly hold the wedding in the canoe."  
"Oh, I don't mean that ceremony," Gilligan said. "I mean the other ceremony." Now everyone looked at Gilligan puzzled.

"What ceremony, Gilligan?" Mary Ann asked, speaking up for the first time since she said that she hoped everyone would enjoy the baked halibut.

"Um, you know, it's a ceremony that we have to have before we get married."  
Mr. Howell wondered what that strange mind had come up with, but he decided not to ask, since Gilligan now looked very self-conscious.

"You mean the bachelor party?" the Skipper asked.

"Do you want me to pop out of a cake?" Ginger offered.

"How would you fit in a cake?" Gilligan asked. "Even a wedding cake would be too small."

"Well, if you men are having a bachelor party, then I want a wedding shower," Mary Ann said.

"Oo, good idea, Mary Ann. That'll help us fill your trousseau."  
"For the last time, they're not taking—"

Ginger leaned over and whispered something that made the Skipper almost blush. Thurston was curious about that, but then Lovey leaned over and whispered, "Thurston, as the only married man, and the arbiter of good taste, I think you should go to this bachelor party and make sure it doesn't get out of hand."

"Uh, well, if you like." He wondered how much of a bachelor party they could manage on the island. There wasn't even a bar! And no stag film had ever washed ashore.

Then to his surprise, the Professor said, "I've concocted a still, so I can provide the alcohol."

"You want me to get drunk?" Gilligan squeaked. Thurston thought the boy should consider himself lucky. Back in civilization, he'd be in for a much wilder night. Or maybe that made him unlucky.

"Come along, Girls, we'll have the shower in my hut." And Lovey led Ginger and Mary Ann away.

"Gentlemen, let's adjourn to my hut," the Professor said.

Within an hour, the men were all tipsy on the Professor's moonshine. Thurston hoped his friends in the Bridgeport Country Club never heard about this.

"You've been holding out on us, Professor," the Skipper said.

"Well, I thought this might have medicinal value."

"I'm feeling a tad under the weather. Pour me another shot," Mr. Howell said.

"Are we having an earthquake or am I drunk?" Gilligan asked.

"You're drunk, Little Buddy."  
"Oh, good."

"I can't believe it. My little buddy is getting married!"  
"I can't believe it either," Gilligan said.

"Well, that makes three of us," Thurston said.  
"Four," said the Professor.

"So when am I getting married?"

"Well, I've made a list of supplies—" the Skipper began.

"And I've made a list of provisions," said the Professor. "We should probably compare lists and then gather everything together that they'll need."  
"Don't forget the bedroll," Gilligan said.

The Professor quirked an eyebrow. "Bedroll?"

"Yeah, the Skipper said that would be easier to fit on the canoe than a bed. And we only need one since we're getting married."

Mr. Howell wondered just how much the Skipper had prepared Gilligan for that side of marriage. He also wondered if he should have a talk with the young man himself. The Professor, despite his scientific knowledge, would be no help, as he probably lacked actual experience.

The Professor got out a list and a pen. "One bedroll."

The Skipper observed, "I would say you could set sail on the seas of matrimony, and the actual sea, in the morning, but it looks like we might all be hungover tomorrow."

"We could hold the wedding in the evening," the Professor said. "That will give us time to load the canoe."

"I'll clear my social calendar," Mr. Howell said.

"But what about Mary Ann's—" Gilligan began. Presumably, he was going to ask about the trousseau, if he even knew what that was. He broke off because Ginger had just come in, wearing a slinky dress and a feather boa. The bachelor party had just gotten a lot more interesting.


	11. The Heiress

Lovey rummaged through her trunks, trying to decide on what to pass on to the bride-to-be.

"Mrs. Howell, you don't have to give me anything."  
"Of course I do. You're getting married."

"Well, it's not as if I'm going on a real honeymoon, or staying in a hotel or something."

"But what about after you and Gilligan get rescued?" Ginger asked. "You'll probably be treated like heroes. Well, a hero and a heroine. You'll stay in the finest hotels, for free."

Both Ginger and Mrs. Howell sighed. They both missed luxury, being pampered. The struggling actress had of course had had much less of that lifestyle than the former Eunice Wentworth had, but certainly more than the farm girl with the simple tastes.

Mary Ann giggled. "I can't see me and Gilligan dressing for dinner every night, and all that."

"Nonsense," Lovey said. "You may not have Ginger's glamour—"

"Thank you," Ginger said.

"But you're a lovely young girl who, with the right hairdresser and couturier would be more than presentable anywhere."

"Gee, thanks."  
"As for Gilligan, yes, that boy is a diamond in the rough, but don't forget that Mr. Howell and I gave him 'millionaire lessons' years ago, and he is certainly trainable."

"Exactly. The real question is, what are you going to wear on your wedding night?"

Mary Ann blushed. Lovey thought the question was a bit in poor taste, although not entirely out of line at a wedding shower.

"Oh, gee, I don't know. I've been sleeping in the Professor's old shirts most of the time, but I guess that won't work for a honeymoon."

"Let me check our hut. I might have something that would work." And Ginger slipped out into the night.

Mrs. Howell suspected that Ginger's exit had something to do with whatever she'd whispered into the Skipper's ear that had made the crusty sailor almost blush. Perhaps Ginger was going to provide the bachelor party with some entertainment. Well, if she didn't return in a reasonable amount of time, then Lovey would check on her. Even a girl like Ginger might find herself out of her depth with four inebriated men, even if they all behaved like gentlemen when sober.

"I guess Ginger has forgotten that she and I aren't the same size."  
Lovey wasn't sure if that mattered with lingerie, but she only said, "Well, part of getting your trousseau ready includes a bit of sewing. And you and I are luckily close in size."

"True."

"Now, My Dear, I think of you as like my own daughter."

"Oh, Mrs. Howell, that's very sweet of you."

"Not at all. And as the closest to a mother on the island, I wondered if you had any questions about men and marriage."

Mary Ann blushed again and said, "No, I had that talk with my mother years ago. And another talk with Aunt Martha before I won the trip on _The Minnow_ and left home."

Neither woman observed that the trip had been much longer than the expected three hours. The observation had been made much too often.

"Well, Dear, I don't just mean what happens in, in bed. There's much more to marriage than that."

"I know, there's cooking and cleaning." She chuckled. "And I think I've had plenty of practice at those."

"Indeed. But I mean things like how to argue with your husband."

"Why would I want to argue with Gilligan? And he always agrees with everyone anyway."

"That may change after marriage. For most couples, arguments are inevitable and they can be healthy. If done correctly."

"Yes, I've seen Aunt Martha and Uncle George fight. But they love each other very much and always make up."

"It's the same for me and Thurston." Lovey was lost in thought for a moment. When they were newly arrived on the island, they felt that of roughly twenty years of wedlock, the last five had been no picnic. But for the most part, despite occasional quarrels, the shipwreck had rejuvenated their marriage. They had grown closer together, united as the only members of high society. They'd become fond of the others, but the Howells would always be set apart. That was how they and the other five wanted it. She wondered now if this united feeling would carry over to civilization. Once they were again in the social whirl—from opera to fox-hunting—would they be just like any other millionaire couple?

Then Ginger's breathy voice was carried on the wind, singing the words to "I Wanna Be Loved By You." For a moment, Eunice remembered her flaming youth in the '20s, when the song was new. She hadn't been a full-fledged flapper, but she had gotten her hair bobbed and done things, like smoking, that shocked her very proper, still Victorian mother.

Mary Ann laughed. "Oh, thank goodness! I was worried Ginger was going to do a strip act for the men."

Lovey hoped it was just singing. She started going through the trunks again and she came across her wedding dress, not the one she'd worn to renew her vows with Thurston, but her original one from the '40s. "Oh, My Dear, you must try it on."

"Really?"

"Of course."

"It's lovely."

"Thank you." Lovey didn't want to tell the girl how much it cost, because she was sure Mary Ann would refuse it. And Mrs. Howell would much rather see it at a tropical wedding than turning yellow and useless in the trunk.

She helped Mary Ann put the dress on over her halter top and tiny shorts. Suddenly the farm girl looked poised and elegant. Her hair was still in ponytails, but Mrs. Howell and Ginger would come up with the perfect coiffure between them on the wedding day.

"Oh, you're going to make a perfect bride!" Lovey felt like she might cry.

"Yes, you are." Ginger had returned, in a slinky dress and a feather boa.

"Thank you, Ginger. Gee, you look nice, too."

The actress promptly burst into tears.


	12. The Actress

Ginger figured she could hunt up lingerie for Mary Ann later. She'd rather not present it under the judgmental eyes of Mrs. Howell. Also, she'd promised the Skipper she'd provide a little entertainment for the bachelor party. She wouldn't strip of course. Ginger prided herself on being sexy without being trashy. And she had been very offended when she thought that Dubov had suggested she pose as a belly dancer. (The Professor had explained that the eccentric Russian artist had meant Bali dancer.)

She changed into a slinky dress and feather boa. She checked the outfit in the mirror. Yes, that should work. She wanted to give just a hint of femininity to the stag gathering.

By the time she arrived, the men were drunk. They weren't rowdy drunks, more like sleepy drunks. Well, this should wake them up, just enough.

Since she'd been thinking of Marilyn Monroe lately (and the tenth anniversary of her death was next month), Ginger decided on "I Wanna Be Loved by You." She wouldn't do it exactly as Marilyn did it in _Some Like It Hot_ , but that was her starting point.

In her eight years on the island, Ginger had vamped a large range of men: many ages, several ethnic groups, and all body types. Even these four men were very different from each other, particularly in personality.

She sang in the direction of Mr. Howell first. The two of them had long ago found a balance. Neither of them wanted him to cheat on poor Mrs. Howell, but they enjoyed flirting. Oh, there were times when she thought about what it'd be like to be a millionaire's mistress. He could certainly keep her in style, if they ever left the island. If he were a widower, she'd be tempted, especially if it led to marriage, but she also knew he could never love her in the doting way he adored his adoring wife. And Ginger could never love him. Mostly, she let him encourage her to turn her flirtation towards other men, for his benefit. She enjoyed the flirtations for their own sakes, but she did hope that he would someday reward her, by backing a play at the least, by buying Hollywood at the most.

Then she serenaded the Skipper. His crush on her was no secret to anyone, not since he chose her as his Miss Castaway candidate, and there were times she was tempted to make him happy. After all, he was hard-working and loyal, with a wonderful laugh. She'd seen pictures of him in his youth and he'd been a handsome blond with that same big smile. But she cared about looks, and he was twenty or thirty years older and who knew how many pounds heavier than the young man in the sepia photos.

She turned her attentions to the groom-to-be. It was still hard to imagine Gilligan as getting married. He was still so boyish and innocent. True, he now seldom backed up into trees and knocked himself out when she tried to kiss him, but then she tried less often these days. There wasn't much to vamp him for.

She wondered, not for the first time that day, what would've happened if she had been the one going on the canoe voyage with Gilligan. She supposed that Mrs. Howell would've pressured her to marry Gilligan. And fond as Ginger was of Gilligan, she could no more imagine being happily married to him than to the Skipper or Mr. Howell. Besides, she would've gotten terrible calluses from the paddling.

She faced the Professor last.

"...I couldn't aspire,

To anything higher,  
Than to feel the desire,  
To make you my own,  
Ba-dum-ba-dum-ba-doodly-dum-boo!"

This time, she couldn't help believing her own words. She had no higher aspiration than to make him her own. Well, she loved acting, bringing joy into people's lives. And there were times when she thought about becoming a nurse, especially if her career was unsalvageable after their rescue. But equal to that was the desire to have this brilliant, distant man open up to her, share her passion and her love. No matter how often that desire was thwarted.

Mr. Howell watched her perform with a smile that was indulgent without quite crossing over into leering. The Skipper whistled and cheered in a way that showed that he'd definitely woken up. Gilligan squirmed uncomfortably, like a little boy. But the Professor sat there stoically. She'd never seen him so indifferent to her singing. He wasn't just aloof. This was rude!

She felt like crying. She finished up the song and curtsied. Mr. Howell called, "Encore! Bravo!" The Skipper added stomping to his whistles and cheers. Gilligan looked like he was very glad it was over. All three men clapped enthusiastically. But the Professor just sat there with his arms crossed. So much for alcohol removing a man's inhibitions.

She managed a breathy goodnight and then escaped to outside the hut, where she could weep alone. She had to pull herself together before she returned to Mrs. Howell and Mary Ann. Why should she care so much what the Professor thought of her? If he thought anything of her. She'd wasted too much energy and emotion on him. He wasn't worth it.

Maybe she'd switch her attentions to the Skipper after the canoe set out. He was a good man, someone who'd appreciate her. Or maybe she'd just wait till they left this damn island and she could return to her old life, a life filled with men who could appreciate her.

Then she heard footsteps. She quickly dried her eyes on her boa. (She'd teased each of the men with it as she serenaded him.) She didn't want to face anyone just then, but sometimes it was impossible to get a moment alone on the island.

"Ginger, I need to talk to you."  
The Professor! The person she both most and least wanted to talk to right then.

"Yes, Professor?" She tried to make her voice sound as normal as possible.

"That was a very foolish thing you just did."


	13. The Scientist

It took every ounce of willpower for the Professor not to respond to Ginger. Not that he hadn't had practice over the years, but usually he wasn't tipsy. And here she was singing right at him, as if she'd deliberately saved him for last.

Finally, he had to cross his arms to contain himself. He knew it was rude to not even applaud politely at the end, but he couldn't let go, even a little, or else he'd fall at her feet.

After she left, the Skipper exclaimed, "Wow, that Ginger is something, isn't she, Little Buddy?"

"Yeah, she's something all right."

The Professor looked more closely at the first mate. Had the combination of moonshine and Ginger's performance stirred up the innocent young man? The Professor felt guilty for his own contribution, but if the four men had simply been left alone, the worst that would've happened would've been hangovers.

"Excuse me a moment, Gentlemen."

The Skipper chuckled and whispered something to Mr. Howell, who guffawed. They probably guessed that he wanted to speak to Ginger alone, although they likely imagined a more amorous encounter than what he planned. As the most rational person on the island, it was his duty to speak up when the others did something without thinking.

It wasn't till after he blurted out, "That was a very foolish thing you just did," that he realized that he could've handled this more wisely. The combination of his intoxication and his suppressed response to her performance had made him fail to ease into the subject.

"I'm sorry the song wasn't to your liking, Professor," she said, more coldly than he'd ever heard.

"I'm more concerned with Gilligan's response to the song. I hardly think you should be planting thoughts into that innocent boy's mind right before we're sending him off in a canoe with sweet, little Mary Ann."

To his surprise, she laughed. "Oh, Professor, nothing and no one could corrupt Gilligan!"

"Don't be so sure." He wondered if she didn't realize the power she had over men, how seductive she was. No, she must know that. Her film career was partially built on that power.

"Honestly, Professor, you're over-reacting. I could see if it was the Skipper going with Mary Ann and I'd worked him up."

Yes, the Skipper was quite honest about his healthy interest in the actress. And the Professor could see him dealing with his arousal by making advances to Mary Ann. Or was Mary Ann too virginal for the Skipper's tastes?

"And anyway," she continued, "what does it matter? Gilligan and Mary Ann will be married."

"You know and I know that they're only getting married to satisfy Mrs. Howell's overzealous scruples."

"Are you saying they have no feelings for each other?"

"Of course they have feelings for each other!" He hadn't meant to let that slip out either. He was going to have to watch himself. Trying to be cool and rational again, he said, "But they're not the sort of feelings that justify a rushed marriage."  
She laughed. "Rushed? They've known each other eight years."

"I mean that there's no courtship, no wooing."  
"Well, if you want to wait around another few months or years for Gilligan to court and woo Mary Ann, go ahead. But I for one can't wait to get off this island."  
"I'm just as eager to get off as you are!"

They both blushed in the moonlight as his words sunk in, but before he could rephrase it, she said, "Professor, you're the one whose silly idea it was to have Gilligan and Mary Ann go in the canoe in the first place."

"Silly? My ideas are not silly!"  
"Well, this one is."

"Goodnight, Ginger," he said, turning away and heading back to his hut.

She called, "Professor!" but he ignored her. He didn't trust himself to speak to her anymore. Not that night, not while he was under the influence of moonshine, moonlight, and her perfume. He didn't know which he wanted to do more, yell at her or grab her and kiss her. Either would be ill-advised.

When he came back to the hut, the three other men were all dozing. He hadn't foreseen that. If it was just one or two of them passed out, then he might be able to get them back to their huts. But it looked like they were here for the night. And this was one night when the Professor particularly needed his accustomed solitude.

Then Gilligan sleepily murmured, "I still don't see how this is going to remove Mary Ann's curse."

"Mary Ann's curse?" the Professor repeated in confusion.

Gilligan woke up more. "Oh, hi, Professor. Did you thank Ginger for her swell song?"

Instead of answering that, as he would've had to admit he'd been anything but grateful, he asked, "Did you like her song, Gilligan?"

"Well, of course, she's a great singer. I think the Honeybees could've been a big success if the Mosquitoes had rescued us."

"Uh, yes, perhaps so."  
"And Ginger is the best singer of all. I just wish she wouldn't do the other stuff with it."

"Other stuff?"

"You know, stroking our faces with the boa and stuff. I would've liked the song better if she hadn't done that."

"How does she make you feel when she does that kind of 'stuff,' Gilligan?"

"Uncomfortable. She's such a pretty girl, almost as pretty as Mary Ann." Gilligan blushed, as if he shouldn't have said this, especially since he was engaged to Mary Ann. "But she tries too hard, and it scares me sometimes."

"Ah." So the look in Gilligan's eyes had probably been fear, or at least panic, rather than lust. The Professor felt relieved but also guilty. He'd been projecting his own suppressed reaction to Ginger onto Gilligan. He'd have to find a way to apologize to her, without embarrassing either of them, or Gilligan. Then he remembered what Gilligan had said upon waking. "What was that about a curse on Mary Ann?"

Now Gilligan looked guilty and self-conscious. "Did I say 'curse'?"

"Well, that's what it sounded like."  
"No, I said Mary Ann's cruise. With me in the canoe."  
"Why would you want to remove her cruise?"  
"Well, it made sense in my dream."

"You didn't say 'curse'?"

"Of course not, Professor. You know there's no such thing as curses."

He knew that but he wasn't so sure Gilligan knew that. Gilligan was heavily influenced by his superstitious captain.

"Come on, Professor, we should get Mr. Howell back to Mrs. Howell before she gets worried."

So the two of them carried the dozing millionaire back to his hut. Mary Ann was gone by then. The Professor wondered if Ginger had ever returned to the wedding shower, but he didn't dare ask.

Mrs. Howell thanked them and then tucked her husband into his bed with his teddy.

"Now we've got to carry the Skipper home," Gilligan said.

The Professor wished he were sober enough to come up with an efficient way to do this, but they'd probably have to rely on their own muscles. Then he heard the sound of the Skipper's snores, but coming from the sailors' hut. They peeked in the window. The Skipper was in his own hammock.

"Oh, good," Gilligan said in relief. "Goodnight, Professor."

"Goodnight, Gilligan."

And the Professor went back to his now empty hut, wondering if he'd be up all night thinking, or if the moonshine would at last put him, too, to sleep.


	14. The Farm Girl

"Oh, I wish I hadn't said that, but he makes me so mad sometimes!"

"It's all right, Ginger. Mrs. Howell says it's normal for couples to argue."  
"But we're not a couple!" Ginger started crying again.

Mary Ann patted Ginger's arm. She thought that the Professor and Ginger could be a couple if they just gave themselves half a chance. Well, it was mostly the Professor's fault. Men could be so slow about such things, as she well knew from her experience with Gilligan. The Professor was book-smart but sometimes he seemed to know as little about women as Gilligan did.

"I'm sorry, Mary Ann. I didn't mean to ruin your shower."

Mary Ann shrugged. She had suggested the shower as a joke really, when she heard about the bachelor party. But the two other women had been eager enough to go along with it, Mrs. Howell especially. Mary Ann still couldn't get over the gift of the wedding dress. She was sure it was a priceless heirloom, but she couldn't really refuse it without hurting Mrs. Howell's feelings.

"That's OK. How about you show me the lingerie for my trousseau?"

Heartbroken though Ginger might've been, these were magic words. She turned out to have stockpiled an impressive array of unmentionables. Some started out life as something else, like the bra with _S.S. Minnow_ across the front, formerly Ginger's dress made out of Gilligan's duffel bag. And others seemed to be adapted from various costumes that had washed ashore over time.

"This is one I swiped from Erica Tiffany Smith," Ginger said, holding up a lacy slip.

"Ginger!" Mary Ann scolded.  
"Oh, come on, she never rescued us. I might as well have gotten something out of all those people who abandoned us."

"Too bad it was mostly men who abandoned us."

That set Ginger off crying again.

"You two will make up tomorrow."  
"I don't know, Mary Ann, I just don't know."  
"You'd better make up. We can't have the best man and the maid of honor fighting at our wedding."

Now Ginger laughed. "Aw, Honey, thank you."

"You're welcome." Mary Ann sighed. "Of course, I'm still not clear when the wedding is actually going to be."

"Well, the men will have to recover from their hangovers before they can build the wedding raft."

"Right." Mary Ann shook her head. "That was sort of unlike Gilligan to want a bachelor party."

"Well, he was probably doing it just because he knew that grooms are supposed to have them."

"Right," Mary Ann said softly.

"Are you thinking about what else he may be thinking grooms are supposed to do?" Ginger teased gently.

Mary Ann blushed. "Well, yes. I don't know what sort of advice the other men may be giving him, or what sort of expectations he may have anyway. And on the other hand, he may not see this as a real marriage."  
"Do you?"

"I, I don't know. It's not a typical marriage."  
Ginger laughed. "No, I don't think marriage to Gilligan could ever be typical."

"But once the preacher—I mean the Skipper—says those words over us, it may feel real. And, well, to be honest, I never saw my wedding night as taking place in a canoe."

"Maybe you two could spend your 'first night' on the island."

"In my hut or his?"

"Well, the Skipper could find other accommodations for the night."

"Ginger!" Mary Ann was shocked.

Ginger laughed. "No, silly, I mean he could bunk with the Professor."

"Oh, of course."

"But that does mean you'll still be spending the rest of the honeymoon in the canoe."

"Yes. Whether or not we, well, fool around. And even that's going to be an adjustment in itself." Sleeping with Gilligan, spending her days with Gilligan. And no one else around.

"Yes, it will be. Did you decide what you're going to do about your period?"

Mary Ann sighed. "Well, I was doing the math. We're roughly 500 miles from Hawaii, so if we don't get picked up before we get there, and we can do maybe 20 miles a day, that's 25 days."

"Why 20 miles?"

"That's what I saw in a book once, that that's a reasonable average for a canoe."

"Hm, 25 days. That's cutting it kind of close, since we just finished our periods yesterday."

"Right. And that's assuming I can get married tomorrow."

"Should I ask the men to rush the raft since you want to get married as soon as possible?"

"No!"

Ginger laughed. "I wouldn't worry too much about it, Honey. Your cycle may be thrown completely off without me around. Not to mention that being at sea may do funny things to it."

"Well, that's true." Still, it was not something she wanted to deal with in a canoe, with a man like Gilligan, who might not even know where babies come from. She wasn't sure if menstruation was a subject that the Skipper or the other men would broach. She decided she'd deal with it when she had to, and just be grateful that it was still a few weeks off.

"Well, if you're lucky, maybe you'll both drown before the 25 days are up."

"You're so comforting, Ginger."  
"I try."

Mary Ann looked through the lingerie. "I'm not going to be able to take all this. And obviously I can't really take a trousseau on board."

"Well, how about just this?" Ginger held up a long flannel nightgown that looked completely un-Ginger-like and more like something Mary Ann's grandmother would wear.

"Where's that from?"  
"Eva Grubb left it behind when she abandoned us. If nothing else, it'll be warm enough for the coldest nights in the canoe. And if Gilligan isn't ready to fool around, you might as well wear something no man could be interested in."

Mary Ann sighed. "OK, I'll take it."


	15. The Groom

"Gilligan, do you have to hammer so loudly?"

"But, Skipper, you said I need to finish this raft if I want to get married. And I have to get married if I go in the canoe with Mary Ann. And I have to go with her if we all want to get rescued, so—"  
"Gilligan, do you have to chatter so loudly?"

"Sorry, Skipper," Gilligan whispered.

He seemed to be the only one of the men whose head didn't hurt that morning, judging from their faces at the breakfast table an hour ago. The Professor had said he was baffled, since Gilligan had the least body mass and so the moonshine should've affected him most. Then the Skipper said maybe Gilligan's head was too empty to hurt. And then Mr. Howell asked them all to shut up.

The women were in better shape. Well, Ginger seemed a little unhappy and Mary Ann unusually quiet, but Mrs. Howell was happily preoccupied with planning the wedding, which was going to be that evening it seemed. Gilligan couldn't believe how fast this was all happening, but he supposed the sooner they got married, the sooner they'd be rescued.

He assumed the curse on Mary Ann had been lifted. He was afraid to ask, but the Skipper wouldn't let him get married to a cursed bride, would he? Then Gilligan distracted himself trying to remember if he had ever seen a horror movie called _The Cursed Bride_.

The Skipper was gathering supplies to put in the canoe. They were apparently embarking on the voyage the next morning. That meant Gilligan would get one last good night's sleep. He'd never thought he'd feel like his old hammock was cozy, but it would have to be more comfortable than the canoe, bedroll or not. And Mary Ann was used to sleeping in a bamboo bed. He was glad she was like him, the kind of person who didn't complain. Imagine being married to someone like Mrs. Howell, who was used to luxuries, like feather beds with gold frames. Or Ginger, who probably had a swan-shaped movie star bed back home. Nowadays she'd probably want one of those fashionable, new waterbeds that they heard about on the radio.

Well, he'd have a waterbed if the canoe leaked. He chuckled. That was pretty good. He was tempted to tell the Skipper, but his friend didn't look in the mood to be amused.

"Here we are. Enough citrus fruits to last a couple weeks." The Professor set down a basket full of grapefruit, oranges, lemons, and limes.

"Do you really think they'll be out there a couple weeks, Professor?" the Skipper asked.

"Well, I hope not. But they might be. Or even longer, if the ships don't spot them."  
Both men looked at Gilligan and he knew that they were thinking _Or if Gilligan doesn't mess things up like usual._ At least they didn't say it out loud. He promised himself he'd do his best not to mess things up this time. After all, in the past when he'd ruined rescues, they weren't any worse off. They were still on the nice, safe island. But this time, it could mean life or death for him and Mary Ann. And he wouldn't be much of a husband if he caused his wife to starve or drown.

After the Skipper and the Professor left, to gather more supplies and provisions, Mrs. Howell appeared and asked, "Gilligan, what color are you going to paint the raft?"

"Paint it?" The Skipper hadn't said anything about painting it. And Gilligan didn't like the idea of more work.

"Yes, of course. Ginger and I are gathering flowers to decorate it and we want ones that will be color-coordinated with the raft.

"I was just gonna leave it bamboo-colored."

"That's terribly unimaginative of you, but I suppose it is your wedding." She left, talking to herself about flowers.

"Yeah, I suppose," he said to himself.

Then Mr. Howell showed up. "Gilligan My Boy."

"If you're looking for Mrs. Howell, she went that-a-way."

"No, I was looking for you. I need you to caddy."  
"Gee, I'm supposed to be building the raft right now."  
"That's two days in a row you've refused to caddy for me!"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Howell, but what are you gonna do when I leave the island?"

Mr. Howell sighed deeply. "Well, it's one of many sacrifices I'll have to make. I just didn't think the sacrificing started already."

"I'll help you this afternoon if I have time."

"Don't you remember? You've got to try on my tuxedos to see which one Lovey will be altering."

"Oh, right. Uh, she's not going to be in the room, is she?" He didn't want Mrs. Howell, or any woman, measuring his inseam.

"Of course she is. I can't sew!"

"Right." He supposed he should be glad it wouldn't be Ginger or Mary Ann. Well, it was probably bad luck for the bride to see the groom in his tux.

"Well, I'll see if Lovey can caddy tomorrow, when she's no longer wrapped up in your wedding."

"Yeah," Gilligan said quietly.

It was strange to think of life on the island going on without him and Mary Ann. For eight years, the seven of them had been almost inseparable. Oh, there were moments in the day when he was on his own, or with his animal pals, but he'd see his human friends every day. He would miss them. He wondered what life would be like without them. Would they all stay in touch after the rescue? Probably he and the Skipper would, and of course he'd be living with Mary Ann. But the Professor would go back to his college, Ginger to Hollywood, and the Howells to one of the their several homes.

If he could, he'd caddy for Mr. Howell right now, maybe for the last time. But he didn't want the Skipper yelling at him about the raft.

"Perhaps golf isn't the best idea for today," said Mr. Howell, putting one hand to his head. "The club hitting the ball, over and over."

"Well, it'd be better than croquet."

Mr. Howell laughed hard at that, and then winced as if it hurt his head. "I think I'd better lie down again."

Gilligan's next visitor was Ginger. He would've felt funny seeing her after her performance at his bachelor party, but having thought it over, he'd decided that it was part of the ceremony to remove Mary Ann's curse. He wasn't quite sure how it worked, but the Skipper had okayed it so it must've been. And Ginger was a girl and she lived with Mary Ann. The feather boa probably was part of the ritual, too, and that was why Ginger had touched their faces with it.

Then she said, "Gilligan, I want to talk to you about your wedding night."


	16. The Officiator

"Skipper, I need to talk to you."

"Of course, Ginger." Busy as he was getting the canoe ready, he always had time for the gorgeous redhead. And he'd very much enjoyed her performance at the bachelor party, sexy but not trashy.

"It's about Gilligan and Mary Ann's wedding night."

The Skipper almost blushed. Yes, he was concerned, in a fatherly way, about how his innocent little buddy would deal with that side of marriage, but he didn't want to discuss it with Ginger. In fact, he was a little shocked that she brought it up.

"Their, their—tonight?"

"Yes. Now obviously you men don't have time to build a honeymoon hut, and they'll be leaving in the morning anyway. So I thought we should work with existing accommodations."

"Existing accommodations?"

"Yes, I was thinking at first that you could stay with the Professor, while Mary Ann stays in your hut with Gilligan."  
"That sounds like a good plan, and I don't think the Professor would mind."

"Probably not, since it was his idea to begin with that Gilligan and Mary Ann be the ones in the canoe." From the sound of her voice, she sounded like she thought it was just as crazy an idea as the Skipper did, but like him she was going along with it. Then she continued, "But I can't see Mary Ann spending her wedding night in a hammock."

Now the Skipper really did blush. He didn't want to picture his best friend and sweet little Mary Ann trying to lose their innocence under those circumstances. Even for a more experienced couple, it would take some acrobatic skill to fool around in a hammock, as he knew from his younger days.

"We need to get them a bed."

She was a very direct young woman, but she had a point. "Well, I guess I could have Gilligan build one after he's done with the raft.  
"I was thinking they could use the Professor's."

"The Professor's?"

"Yes, he could sleep in Gilligan's hammock for the night, if you don't mind."

He didn't mind. The Professor would probably be less annoying than Gilligan. But he had to wonder, "What does the Professor think of this idea?"

"Well, that's the thing. We had a little spat last night, and I didn't want to ask him for a favor, especially when it's such a delicate matter."

"Ah. You want me to talk to him?"

"Would you?"  
"Of course, Ginger." He stopped himself from saying, "Anything for you."

"Thanks, Skipper." She kissed his cheek and left.

He wondered what the spat had been about. He dimly remembered the Professor excusing himself after Ginger left the hut, but he was himself asleep when the Professor had returned. No doubt all this wedding nonsense was making the Professor and Ginger take another look at their own slow-moving romance. Well, Mary Ann would have to throw the bouquet at the only single woman left on the island, so maybe that would nudge them a bit.

Meanwhile, the Skipper could use this opportunity to encourage the Professor to make up with Ginger. He didn't have any recent direct experience with romance, but he knew that women love it when the man apologizes first, no matter who's at fault. He'd seen that enough with the Howells after all.

He met up with the Professor over by the canoe and raft. Gilligan was almost done with the raft. And the canoe was filling up faster than he'd expected. Maybe all those provisions weren't necessary. After all, Gilligan could fish.

"Professor, I don't know that they need all that food."

"Really? I don't know that they need all those supplies. A hammer and nails, Skipper?"

"What if Gilligan has to make repairs to the canoe?"

"Where would I stand while I'm hammering, Skipper?"

"Quiet, Gilligan."

"I don't see a problem with the amount of food I'm giving them. And they will be consuming it as the journey continues, so that will lighten the load."

"Except that it'll be inside me and Mary Ann."

"Much of it will be eliminated, Gilligan."

"Eliminated? You mean we'll just throw it overboard?"  
"No, Gilligan, your bodies will process it and then, well, dispose of it."

"Oh! You mean number one and number two?"

"Yes."

Then the Skipper realized something. "Um, Professor, what are they going to do for a, well, a head?" It'd be one thing if it was him and Gilligan. They were both men, men who had lived together a long time. If need be, they could've relieved themselves over the side of the canoe. But a newly married couple would probably want more privacy. On the island, they used latrines and outhouses. But neither would be an option on a canoe.

"Hm, well, a bedpan might work."

"You mean I'm gonna have to—In front of Mary Ann?" Gilligan looked like he might faint.

"Well, you could ask her to avert her eyes."

"And cover her ears," the Skipper muttered. He felt sorry for the two young people. This wasn't going to be a very romantic honeymoon. Then he remembered that he needed to talk to the Professor. And it probably wouldn't be wise to discuss it in front of Gilligan. So he said, "Professor, why don't we compare lists again and see what we can each give up."

"Very well."  
"Don't forget a bedpan!" Gilligan called after them.

When they were out of earshot, the Skipper said, "I was talking to Ginger."

To his surprise, the Professor said, "I know what you're going to say."

"You do?"

"Yes, if it's about last night's suggestive performance."

"Oh, I don't know, Professor. For a bachelor party, that was pretty tasteful." He was sure he'd been to a lot more bachelor parties than the Professor had.

"Be that as it may, I think it was far more provocative than was appropriate in front of an innocent young man like Gilligan."  
"Well, Gilligan is getting married tonight."

"Exactly. What's the point of stirring him up right before he and Mary Ann set out? Can you imagine what that flood of hormones could do to our hopes of rescue?"

The Skipper hadn't thought of that. If Gilligan spent the whole trip wanting to make whoopee, then they might never get rescued! "Well, I don't know what we can do about it now. And after all, Gilligan seems perfectly normal this morning. I mean normal for Gilligan. He doesn't even have a hangover!"

"Perhaps I'm being overly cautious."  
"Perhaps. Is this what your spat with Ginger was about?"

"She told you?"

"Just that you had one."  
"I see. Well, I guess I should apologize."

"It wouldn't hurt. And you don't want to spoil the wedding, do you?"

The Professor gave him a look like he thought the wedding was nonsense, even if he was going along with it. And then the Skipper realized that he would have to spoil the wedding night. What if the Professor was right and a Ginger-awakened Gilligan couldn't keep his mind on the paddling? It'd be different once the bridal couple were safely tucked away in a Hawaiian honeymoon suite. But their own lives, and the lives of the other five, were at stake.

He decided not to mention Ginger's suggestion that the Professor's bed and hut be turned over for the wedding night. And it looked like he'd better have another little talk with his little buddy.


	17. The Father of the Bride

"Thurston, I was thinking."

They were words he'd learned to dread after almost thirty years of marriage. But he did appreciate her love and loyalty for three decades, not to mention the fact that she was caddying for him that morning. So he was patient when he asked, "What were you thinking, Lovey?"

"Well, a honeymoon cruise to Hawaii sounds terribly romantic on paper. But the reality is that it'll be at least partly in a canoe, one that the young people will have to paddle themselves."

"My Dear, it's not as if Gilligan and Mary Ann have our sophisticated tastes. They're simple people with simple wants."

"Nonetheless, I think we should see that they have a pleasant wedding night before setting out."

He almost said that the pleasantness of the wedding night had to do with very simple, one might say primitive, wants. But he did his best to shelter his wife from the sordidness of life, like the scene in the castaways' silent movie where Ginger had kissed the Professor passionately while he lay on the table.

Lovey continued, "So I think that we should loan them our hut for the night."

"Our hut?!"

"Well, it is the nicest building on the island. And they both have hutmates, so they can't stay in either of their own beds, not that poor Mary Ann would want to share a hammock."  
Mr. Howell thought that it'd be more comfortable than the canoe, but he didn't say that. Instead he said, "But, Darling, where would we sleep?"

"Well, I would sleep in Mary Ann's bed and you would sleep in Gilligan's hammock."  
"A Howell sleep in a hammock? The very idea!"

"Well, it's only for one night."

He thought that was easy for her to say. She was getting a bed. But he could hardly suggest they trade places. She would never let him share a hut with Ginger, and he certainly didn't want his wife sleeping above the Skipper!

Then he thought of something. There was no reason why he couldn't trade with the Professor after trading with Gilligan. He could sleep in the Professor's bed and the Professor could have Gilligan's hammock. (The Skipper could keep his own hammock.)

He waited till after the golfing practice to say, "Lovey My Dear, would you mind putting the clubs away while I go talk to the Professor?"

"Very well, Thurston. It's the least I can do since you're making the sacrifice of giving up our hut tonight."

"Don't mention it."

He found the Professor, who seemed to be taking a break from loading the canoe with food and instead seemed to be searching for a person.

"Mr. Howell, have you seen Ginger?"

"Not since last night." He whistled, remembering the show she'd put on for them.

"Mr. Howell, can I be direct?"

"I don't know, Dear Boy. Can you?"

"I mean, did you find Ginger's display needlessly provocative?"  
"Needlessly? Never!"

"I'm talking about her acting that way in front of Gilligan."

Mr. Howell let out a bark of laughter. "She could've danced in the altogether and it wouldn't have stirred up Gilligan." A few weeks alone in a canoe with Mary Ann might do it, but probably nothing less.

"Perhaps you're right. I may've over-reacted."

Thurston stopped himself from saying that it may've been too much for the Professor, but not for anyone else. Instead he said, "On the other hand, maybe we should keep him away from Mary Ann tonight."

"Tonight? Oh, yes, the wedding night. Well, I don't really care if they get together on the island. I'm more concerned about what happens on the canoe and whether it'll keep us all from getting rescued."

"You mean if the canoe tips over?"

"No, Mr. Howell. It's just I think that they should stay focused on getting to Hawaii."

"Oh, yes, of course. Nonetheless, Mrs. Howell does care whether they get together on the island."

"Well, it's her silly idea for them to get married!"  
"No, I mean, she would like them to have a place to spend their wedding night."

"Oh, I see." The Professor sighed. "Well, I suppose I could give up my hut for one night. I could sleep in Gilligan's hammock, while he and Mary Ann take my bed. Perhaps nothing will happen between them."

"Yes, yes, I'm sure it'll be fine." If the bridal couple spent the night at the Professor's, Mr. Howell could have his own bed.

"Of course, what would be even better is if they stayed in your hut."

"My hut?!"

"Yes, you have two beds. And if it turns out that Mary Ann and Gilligan aren't ready for, you know, well they won't have to share a bed and no one will know."

Thurston suddenly wondered if the other castaways had ever speculated on his love life with Lovey. He supposed they did. There were so few people on the island, and the gossip couldn't always be about the unofficial couples. He had of course been intimate with his wife. After all, they'd been on the island eight years. But the truth was, they'd very seldom slept in the same bed in all their years of marriage. Back home, in their several homes, they'd each had their own bedroom suites. It was just how things were for their class. In fact, it'd been an adjustment to share a hut together, although it did seem to bring them closer.

He decided not to tell the Professor that whether or not Gilligan and Mary Ann slept separately that night would have no direct bearing on the consummation of their marriage. Instead he asked, "If they're in my hut, where will Mrs. Howell and I sleep?"

"Well, she can take Mary Ann's bed. And you could take Gilligan's hammock."  
"I am not sleeping in a hammock!" he said as indignantly as if this was the first time it had been suggested to him.

The Professor sighed. "Fine. I'll sleep in Gilligan's hammock after all, and you can have my bed."

"Thank you, Dear Boy." Well, at least that was settled.


	18. The Matron of Honor

"Oh, gee, Mrs. Howell, you don't have to give up your hut to us!"

"My Dear, it's nothing to the sacrifice you're making. I mean going in the canoe, not marrying Gilligan," she added, just to be clear.

Mary Ann laughed and then shook her head. "It's awfully sweet of you to do all this for me and Gilligan. The wedding, the gown, and now this."  
"Oh, you know I adore weddings. And back home I never have the opportunity to do so much to bring it all together." Even if Mary Ann had been her daughter, Mrs. Howell would've hired a wedding planner. And she certainly wouldn't be doing such tasks as altering the gown or making flower arrangements. It was work, but it was fun. She couldn't help thinking she'd like to make another island wedding happen, but the Professor and Ginger had no reason to ever marry. Probably Gilligan and Mary Ann never would've if he hadn't found the canoe.

"Mrs. Howell, I just thought of something. If Gilligan and I are in your hut." She paused, blushing a little. "Where will you and Mr. Howell sleep?"

"We've already got it worked out. I'll sleep in your bed, My Dear, and Mr. Howell will sleep in Gilligan's hammock."

Mary Ann looked like she was trying not to laugh. Lovey had to admit that it was a comical image. And Thurston and the Captain had never gotten along terribly well. Initially, Thurston had blamed the Skipper for the shipwreck. And the two men had often butted heads over leadership of the island. The Skipper didn't understand that whatever power he had on board his boat, that power did not transfer over to dry land. And Thurston was a natural-born leader. But the men could certainly tolerate each other for one night.

As for herself and Ginger, well, they'd never been close. Each woman was closer to Mary Ann, who indeed was probably the person who got along best with everyone, well, maybe second best after Gilligan. Lovey now wondered what it would be like without Mary Ann and Gilligan around, and not just in terms of chores. Gilligan, despite all the trouble he unintentionally caused, kept them all amused with his antics. Both young people were very sweet-natured, always seeing the best in others. They would be sorely missed.

True, it wouldn't be for long, hopefully only for a month or two. They'd send a search party back for the others. And then it'd be back to civilization. Lovey still wanted to go home, but she couldn't help feeling a pang at the end of their close-knit community. She knew she'd never find friends like these again, ones who liked who for who she was, not for what she owned.

Even Ginger wasn't so bad. Yes, the girl could be vain and self-absorbed at times, but Lovey supposed some people might say the same of her. And the actress had a good heart underneath her frivolity, as Lovey hoped people would say of her. Perhaps she and Ginger were more alike than she'd ever realized, although Lovey had never been the flirt (or worse?) that Ginger was.

"Oh, I just remembered!" Mary Ann said suddenly. "The wedding cake!"

"Would you like some help with that, My Dear?"

Lovey had learned to cook a little after eight years, although she wasn't the cook that Mary Ann was, or even that Ginger was.

Mary Ann smiled at her. "Yes, thank you. You can help me gather ingredients."

"I'm guessing it's going to be coconut-flavored."

"You guessed right. With maybe a dash of pineapple to give it some zest."

"How many layers?"

"Well, not too many, unless the five of you want to eat it for the next few weeks."

"You could take some along on your voyage."

"I suppose so, but I think the Professor has planned only foods that will keep well. We won't exactly have a refrigerator on board."  
"That's true." There were various ways that they'd found of cooling and heating food on the island, but none of them would work on the canoe. "How are you going to manage to cook food on board?"

Mary Ann sighed. "I talked to the Professor about that a little. Obviously, Gilligan, a wooden boat, and fire would be a risky combination. We'll have to have most of our food raw."

"Even the fish?"

"Well, he says the Japanese eat raw fish."  
"Oh, that's right, sushi." Lovey had eaten it once, at a dinner party with an Oriental theme.

"So I guess Gilligan and I can. Goodness knows we've eaten stranger food the past eight years."

Lovey laughed, remembering some of the odd meals, including radioactive vegetables.

"And it's possible we might find another island along the way, not necessarily inhabited. And we could replenish our food supply there. And light a fire if need be."

Lovey gasped. "Oh, I just had a dreadful thought! What if you come across cannibals?"

"Well, it's no more likely than it is here. And we've managed to scare off all kinds of natives."

"True." Still, Lovey thought the girl was very brave. Perhaps she really was the best person to accompany Gilligan. "You know, I think you're going to be a very good influence on Gilligan, and not just on this voyage."

"Thank you, Mrs. Howell. But you know, I've never thought Gilligan was foolish. Just a little silly and clumsy. Yes, he's not brilliant like the Professor, and he doesn't have the specialized knowledge that Mr. Howell and the Skipper have. But he comes up with creative ideas sometimes, and he can communicate with animals."

"I suppose so." Mary Ann might've been correct, but Lovey couldn't help thinking that that must've been at least partly the voice of a young girl in love, idealizing her groom. Yes, Mary Ann had always been less critical of Gilligan than the rest of them, but then she was less critical in general. And she had seemed sweet on the first mate almost from the beginning.

"Anyway, we'd better get started on that cake."

Starry-eyed or not, Mary Ann was still very practical, and Lovey was more convinced than ever that it was in fact wise to send her on this voyage.


	19. The Maid of Honor

"Oh, hello, Professor."

"Hello, Ginger."

They both were self-conscious. Other than a "Please pass the guava juice, Ginger" at the breakfast table and a "More pepper, Professor?" at lunch, they hadn't spoken since their argument after she left the bachelor party. And now she was gathering the last of the flowers for the wedding, and he was collecting coconuts for the canoers.

"Would you like some help?"

"No, I'm fine. But thank you. Uh, would you like some help?"

"I'm just about done." She placed a white flower in her hair.

He smiled. "That looks lovely."

"Thank you." She handed him a yellow flower. "For your buttonhole."  
"Thank you."

"Do you know what you'll be wearing?"

"My brown jacket of course. I haven't exactly got a tuxedo packed away."

"Maybe you could borrow one from Mr. Howell."

"No, that's all right. I always wear my brown jacket for special occasions."

She knew that. She thought he looked nice in it, but she couldn't help wondering how he'd look in more formal wear. She imagined taking him to a Hollywood premiere after they were rescued. Or would he think such events were frivolous? Maybe not. She remembered the time she'd said she thought her life was empty and meaningless, and he said that entertaining people was important.

"Ginger, I'm sorry about last night. I was intoxicated and I said some things I shouldn't have."

"So did I. And I wasn't drunk."

He chuckled. "Well, I started it."

"Never mind." She wished they could make up with a kiss, but she suddenly felt very shy. "Did the Skipper talk to you about—?"

"Yes, he did. I meant to talk to you earlier, but I seem to keep getting sidetracked the last couple days."

"I think we all have. Anyway, the important thing is that it's all set up for tonight."

He looked a little embarrassed and she kicked herself for bringing up such a delicate topic. It was one thing to discuss it with the down-to-Earth Skipper and another to mention it to the aloof Professor.

"Uh, yes, it is."

"Well, good. Anyway, I've got to take the rest of these flowers over to the clearing. The wedding will be starting in half an hour."

"Yes, and I've got to get these coconuts to the canoe."

"See you at the wedding, Professor."

"Yes, see you there."

As she walked away, she couldn't help thinking that if this were a normal wedding, there would be many opportunities to flirt with the Professor. But they could hardly get lost in a crowd, could they? Well, she supposed that there would be opportunities during their remaining weeks or months on the island. They'd find moments alone, like this, when they weren't busy getting ready to marry off Gilligan and Mary Ann.

Ginger had already made a wedding arch covered with flowers, as well as draped flowers on the tables and chairs. Now she needed to finish Mary Ann's bouquet and get boutonnières ready for the three other men. As she prepared the bouquet, she wondered if Mary Ann would keep with tradition and throw it, although Ginger was the only single lady on the island. She suddenly remembered she needed to loan a garter for Gilligan to remove from Mary Ann and toss to the Skipper and the Professor.

She laughed, imagining shy Gilligan having to look at and touch Mary Ann's leg in front of everyone. Well, he'd seen her legs before, since Mary Ann liked to wear short-shorts. (And although petite, she did have nice long legs. Ginger had often thought Mary Ann could've been a success in Hollywood, although not much of an actress.) But the poor boy would probably faint if he had to touch Mary Ann relatively intimately like that, especially in public.

She wondered if anything would happen in the Professor's bed that night. Well, if not there, then maybe in the canoe. Certainly in Hawaii. Probably the couple would take it slow. Ginger found herself envying just the idea of sharing a bed with a man, even for snuggling. It had been a long, long time.

"Oh, there you are, Ginger," said Mrs. Howell. "I need your help with Mary Ann's hair and make-up."

Ginger smiled. "Of course. Let me just stop by the men's hut with their buttonholes." She picked up the boutonnières and headed over.

When she went in, the Skipper was helping Gilligan tie his tie for his black tuxedo. Ginger suppressed a laugh. It was the magician's costume that had washed ashore, what was it, seven years ago?

"I thought you were going to wear one of Mr. Howell's tuxedos." Mrs. Howell had mentioned something about that.

"This was a better fit."

"It should go well with this purple flower," she said, placing it in his lapel.

"How about me, Ginger?"

She smiled at the Skipper, who was wearing one of Mr. Howell's blue country club blazers, let out of course. "Hm. A red one?"

"Thanks, Ginger."

"You both look very dapper."  
They thanked her.

"What are you wearing?" the Skipper asked.

"Something I found in the trunk of costumes." It was a '20s era gown, not particularly bridesmaid-like but nothing that would upstage Mary Ann. She would've borrowed something from Mrs. Howell, but the older woman was much closer to Mary Ann's size.

"Gee, I sort of wish we had a wedding photographer," Gilligan said. "This'll be the last time we're all dressed up on the island."

"I'll ask Mrs. Howell to use one of their cameras." There were still a couple that Gilligan had never damaged.

"Good idea," said the Skipper. "She's the only one of us who won't have a special role during the wedding."

He was right. He'd be performing the ceremony, Mr. Howell would be giving away the bride, and the Professor would be best man. As for Ginger, she'd be carrying Mary Ann's train.

"See you two at the wedding."  
"See ya," they both said.

Then Ginger went to the Howells' hut to help make Mary Ann even more beautiful.


	20. The Best Man

**Author's Note: Thanks, Everyone, for all the great reviews! One of the sentences in the opening paragraph is adapted from an anonymous review.**

...

A part of the Professor's mind couldn't believe that the wedding was actually about to occur. He'd half thought that the original owner would come back and claim the canoe while they were all dithering about with Mrs. Howell's nonsense. But here they were at the lagoon and the canoe was safe and sound.

Four of the castaways boarded the raft, the Skipper and Gilligan moving it out into the lagoon enough to make the marriage legal. Then Mr. Howell, Ginger, and of course Mary Ann would take the canoe (with the supplies and provisions emptied out of it for the time being) out to them as soon as the Professor started playing the wedding march on the hand-cranked record player.

"Nervous, Gilligan?" the Professor asked.

"Well, yeah, I've never been married before."

The Professor chuckled. "Well, I've never been best man before."

"I'm kinda glad I'm not best man. I mean if this were someone else's wedding."

"Oh, why is that?"

"Because I'd probably drop the ring into the lagoon."

The Professor almost said, "Remind me not to make you my best man," but he stopped himself. That would only happen if he ever married Ginger, and that was extremely unlikely.

"I'm sure you'll both do splendidly," Mrs. Howell said. "Captain, can we start now?"

"I think we're just about far enough out."

"Far out," Gilligan murmured, and the Professor turned his head to see the two girls and Mr. Howell emerging from the bushes and onto the shore. Gilligan was apparently using the modern slang to convey that his bride was a vision of loveliness, even at that distance. Mary Ann looked fresh and pure, like a Spring morning, despite the sophisticated upsweep and makeup the other two women had put her into. But the Professor's eyes were soon drawn to the maid of honor, the white flower in her red hair, the silver of her 1920s-era gown, and her warm smile accentuated by raspberry-colored lipstick.

"Doesn't Thurston look dashing?" Mrs. Howell cooed.

"Yes, very dapper," the Professor said, glancing at the man on the shore, in the top hat and tails, before his eyes returned to Ginger.

"Maestro, if you please," said the Skipper.

It would've made more sense for Mrs. Howell to work the record player, since she had no official role at the wedding other than photographer. But the Professor did it out of habit. He remembered other occasions when he had, various productions and performances that the castaways had put on over the years to amuse themselves. He'd never been one for the theatrical arts, and he knew he'd been the worst actor in the "Castaway Pictures" film, but he thought back on such times fondly now. This would be the last production for the seven of them, but it was no artifice. It was, if Gilligan and Mary Ann went through with it, for real, for a lifetime.

The Professor had seen the Skipper giving Mary Ann paddling lessons earlier, despite how busy they both were that day. She now propelled the boat single-handed, since Mr. Howell was too lazy to help and Ginger didn't know how. It was a comical and yet inspiring sight. Not for the first time, the Professor felt that he had made the right choice in selecting Gilligan's canoe-partner, whether or not they would indeed be life-partners.

When the canoe reached the raft, the Skipper and Gilligan tied the two crafts together. Then they helped the other three on board the raft. Since there was no bridal processional, Mr. Howell took Mary Ann by the arm and handed her off to Gilligan, while Ginger made sure Mary Ann's train didn't fall in the water.

The Skipper cleared his throat. "Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the union of Willy Gilligan—"

"Willy Gilligan?!" the _Minnow's_ five passengers exclaimed.

"I thought your first name was Gilligan!" Ginger cried.

"When we adopted you, why did you let us call you G. Thurston Howell IV?"

"Yes, it should've been W. Thurston Howell IV."

"I don't like to make waves."

"So I'm going to be Mary Ann Gilligan?"

"Yeah, disappointed?"

Mary Ann smiled at the groom. "Not at all."  
"May I continue?" the Skipper asked impatiently.

The others gestured that he should proceed.

"The union of Willy Gilligan and Mary Ann Summers in holy matrimony. If anyone can show just cause why these two should not be joined, let them speak now or forever hold their peace."

The Professor knew he wasn't the only one on the raft who had reservations about this marriage. But after all the effort put into the wedding, he could hardly object. And it did seem the only way they were going to get off the island, since this raft wasn't exactly seaworthy.

After pausing for objections, the Skipper continued with the ceremony. The Professor's mind wandered a little, some of it wondering what was going through Ginger's mind. This had to be very different from any Hollywood wedding, no matter how eccentric the stars. Yet Ginger was beaming as if she couldn't be happier for her friends. Maybe all women loved weddings, even glamorous, sophisticated women who had dated many men.

Even he, the most unsentimental person on the island (and that included Mr. Howell), had to admit that silly as this all was, there was something quite touching about it. Did Gilligan and Mary Ann in fact love each other? They were both smiling, although shyly.

"...The ring please, Professor."

"Yes, of course." He reached into the pocket of his brown jacket and handed the ring to Gilligan, hoping that the nervous groom wouldn't drop it into the lagoon.

But Gilligan carefully slid the ring onto Mary Ann's finger and repeated, "With this ring I thee wed," and all the rest.

The ceremony was relatively short. None of them wanted to risk the raft sinking with their combined weight too long.

"Gilligan, you may now kiss the bride."

"In front of everybody?" Gilligan squeaked.

But he and Mary Ann leaned in for a shy kiss. The others applauded, Mrs. Howell taking a picture.

After the ceremony, Gilligan and Mary Ann carefully got into the canoe.

"Don't forget the bouquet, My Dear!" Mrs. Howell exclaimed as she took another snapshot.

"Oh, right." Mary Ann threw it right at Ginger, careful not to tip the canoe.

Ginger caught the bouquet and sniffed it. Then she smiled at the Professor over the flowers and he was sure he'd never seen a more beautiful sight.

"And the garter," Mr. Howell prompted.

"The what?"

Mary Ann explained to Gilligan in a whisper, and they both blushed.

"Do I have to?"

"Tradition, My Boy."

Mary Ann pulled up her gown and Gilligan clumsily removed the garter. They were both sitting and the canoe looked like it might tip over at one point, but he managed it. Then he threw it towards the raft.

The Professor didn't want to make a show of trying to catch the garter. After all, the Skipper was single, too, and could possibly meet the love of his life once they were rescued. But when it looked like the garter might fall into the water, he dove for it at the same moment that the Skipper did. They bumped their heads and fell into the lagoon. The waves they made tipped the Howells and Ginger off the raft. And since the canoe was still tied to the raft, Gilligan and Mary Ann were overturned.

The Skipper hit Gilligan with his hat as they all trod water. And then Ginger went under! The Professor remembered suddenly that she wasn't a very good swimmer. (She couldn't swim at all when they first arrived on the island.) He would have to save her!


	21. The Bride

OK, so it wasn't the wedding she'd imagined when she was a little girl. But she was amused at first when the entire wedding party ended up dunked in the lagoon. Then she was worried when she remembered that Ginger couldn't swim very well.

Luckily, the Professor remembered it, too, and he rescued Ginger. It was, in Mary Ann's opinion, just as romantic as the wedding itself. She sighed as she watched from the shore as the Professor carried Ginger in his surprisingly muscular arms. And then of course the Professor had to give Ginger the kiss of life. Mary Ann thought he might object on hygienic grounds, but he didn't. And of course Ginger's arms went around the Professor once she regained consciousness.

Mary Ann did her best not to stare. She still remembered how she first felt when, at the tender age of 20, she had seen Ginger in a passionate movie kiss, not with a Hollywood leading man but with their very own Professor! It had been quite the eye-opener. Yes, it was for the film that they hoped would get them rescued, but the two of them had put much more into that kiss than the plot demanded.

Mary Ann glanced over at Gilligan, whose jaw had dropped. She wondered if they would ever kiss like that. Yes, this was their wedding night, but she had no expectations, one way or the other.

"Look away, Lovey," Mr. Howell advised.

The clinch ended and the Professor and Ginger looked self-conscious. Then Ginger whispered something in the Professor's ear.

"Uh, no, I didn't see any sign of it. I thought you were more important than the, uh, object."

"Well, thank you. At least I still have the other one."

Then the Skipper took something out of his pocket. "Uh, Ginger, did you want this back?"

"No, you keep it, Skipper. You never know."

The Skipper looked like a little boy with a crush, as he wrapped the garter around his fingers. Mary Ann wished Ginger wouldn't tease him. The Skipper must know, after all these years, that he didn't have a chance with Ginger, especially after she kissed the Professor like that. Mary Ann didn't think Ginger was deliberately cruel, but she could be thoughtless at times.

"I think we all need to change into dry clothes and then have the wedding banquet." As always, Mrs. Howell knew just the right thing to say, her tact coming in very handy then.

"A banquet?" Gilligan said eagerly.

"Don't expect too much," Mary Ann told him. "The girls and I haven't had too much time to spend cooking today."

"I'm sure whatever you made, it'll be delicious."

Mary Ann thought that if her Aunt Martha was right that the way to a man's heart was through his stomach, then Gilligan would probably give her his love and devotion for the rest of their lives.

Mrs. Howell's wedding dress felt heavy when it was soaked, so Ginger again had to help her with her train, as they headed back to their hut. For the first time, it hit Mary Ann that soon it wouldn't be her hut anymore. Ginger would stay there for however long it took Mary Ann and Gilligan to reach civilization and send back a rescue party. But Mary Ann wouldn't even have a last night in her home of these past eight years. On the other hand, she would have a chance to be alone, really alone, with Gilligan. Well, with as much privacy as any of them ever got on the island, where it did seem at times as if they lived in each other's pockets.

"I guess you won't be handing this gown down to your daughter, will you?" Ginger asked they made their slow way to their hut.

"Not unless it's dry-cleaned." Mary Ann suddenly realized that her dream of having children, something she'd often given up on when it seemed she'd be marooned forever, was a possibility. She wondered, not for the first time, what sort of father Gilligan would make, since he was so child-like himself. She thought he would be kind and playful, but she'd likely have to take care of the discipline herself.

Anyway, that would probably be months or even years from now, since she suspected she and Gilligan would take things slow romantically. Of course, she could be wrong, judging from Gilligan's reaction to the Professor and Ginger's kiss. Well, whatever happened, she would deal with it, as she always had. Life on a farm and then on this island had taught her that.

Mary Ann changed into one of Ginger's gowns that she had altered five years ago, when she had thought that she was the actress. The friends now agreed that it would be something suitable for the wedding banquet and, as Ginger put it, "after the banquet."

Ginger put on the Theda Bara outfit from the crate of silent movie costumes, minus the black wig. Then she and Mary Ann helped each other redo their hair and make-up.

"I'm going to miss this," Mary Ann said. "I'm going to miss you."  
"Hey, you and Gilligan can come and visit me in Hollywood, any time."

"I wouldn't want to intrude."  
"Intrude? Honey, you're my best friend. And the realest person I know."

They hugged and then went to set out the food. The cake had turned out well, with three layers.

"Wow, what a nice cake! Here, let me help you carry that."

"Thank you, Skipper," Ginger and Mary Ann both said.

With his assistance, they set the cake on the table. Then Gilligan appeared. Unlike the Skipper, who'd changed into his usual blue shirt and tan slacks, Gilligan was now wearing the Charlie Chaplin costume, minus the mustache. Mary Ann felt like she should be wearing her Mary Pickford costume, but it wasn't exactly bridal.

"Hey, the cake looks great!"

"Thank you, Gilligan."

"But isn't it supposed to have a little bride and groom at the top?"

"Oh, you're right." It was easy to overlook a detail like that, with everything else on her mind.

"I'll be right back," he said.

The Skipper shook his head like he wondered what nuttiness Gilligan was up to now.

Then the Professor appeared, minus his brown jacket of course. The rest of his outfit looked the same as usual, a buttoned white shirt and sensible slacks. The Howells, however, had formal wear to spare, so they looked as elegant as always.

To her amusement, Gilligan came back with two forked sticks, one with a scrap of black cloth attached, the other with a white scrap. "How about these?"  
"They're perfect." He really was adorable.

"Be careful, Little Buddy," the Skipper warned, as Gilligan tried to put the stick-people on top of the cake. It did seem an accident waiting to happen, although she didn't blame her husband for the canoe and raft capsizing.

Her husband! Gilligan was really her husband! It still didn't feel real. But then it had been a very short engagement.

"Don't worry, Skipper, I've got it." Gilligan indeed placed the two little figures on the cake without any accident.

"Thank you, Gilligan," Mary Ann said and gave him a big kiss on the lips.

Unfortunately, she startled Gilligan so much that he tripped and knocked the Skipper into the cake. The Skipper looked like he was going to hit Gilligan with his hat but instead gave him a big hug, getting frosting all over Gilligan. Mary Ann had a naughty thought about how to get the frosting off of Gilligan, and then was grateful that the mind-reading seeds had been destroyed.


	22. H & H

"Thurston Darling, it's time."

"Oh, yes, of course, Lovey."

They'd been dancing together, remembering their own wedding almost thirty years before. But it was getting late, time to escort the newlyweds to the Howells' hut.

The other three castaways weren't paying attention. The Skipper was drowsily cranking the record player (which Thurston had saved while Lovey made sure not to lose the camera), as the Professor and Ginger slow-danced. Thurston tapped Gilligan on the shoulder, and the lad let go of his bride. (He'd had to change into one of Thurston's tuxedos after all, when his second wedding outfit got covered in cake.) At first Gilligan seemed to think Mr. Howell was cutting in, but then he understood when Mrs. Howell took Mary Ann's arm and escorted her away. He shyly followed Mr. Howell.

Lovey had draped sheer fabric on the walls and she now lit candles. There was only so much they could do to set the mood under these primitive conditions. If it had been any young man but Gilligan, the bridal couple probably wouldn't have needed the mood set. They'd already be in the mood. But who knew with that strange, child-like man?

"See you in the morning," Lovey told the young pair.

"Goodnight," Thurston said, clapping Gilligan on the back.

Both Gilligan and Mary Ann looked shy and embarrassed, so Thurston resisted the sort of wisecracks he'd have made if it were, say, the Skipper and Ginger.

He and Lovey slipped out into the night.

"Thurston, do you remember when we got married?"

"Of course, Darling."

She gave him a passionate kiss, which he returned when his surprise wore off. Then she said, "I'm going to miss sleeping in the same room with you tonight."

He nodded. They'd rarely spent a night apart since they arrived on the island, only when they'd quarreled. Well, and when they thought their marriage was null and void. He wanted to be with her this night, feeling stirrings he hadn't felt in a very long time. He thought of telling her that he would be staying in the Professor's hut that night, but he didn't want her to know he didn't want to rough it in the hammock.

Then she sighed. "But it's only for one night."

"Yes." He gave her a deep soul-kiss, which she returned.

Then they bade each other goodnight and she headed towards the girls' hut. He sighed and made his way towards the Professor's hut.

* * *

When Lovey went into the girls' hut, Ginger was already in bed. "Mrs. Howell, what are you doing here?" she gasped.

"Didn't I explain to you about me and Thurston giving the newlyweds our hut for the night?"

"But I thought—" Ginger stopped herself.

"You don't mind if I use Mary Ann's bed tonight, do you?"

"No, not at all. But where's Mr. Howell sleeping?"

"In Gilligan's hammock."

Ginger laughed and Lovey joined in, despite herself.

Lovey changed into her nightclothes and lay down in Mary Ann's bed. It did feel odd to not have Thurston and his teddy in the neighboring bed.

"Goodnight, Mrs. Howell."

"Goodnight, Dear."

The actress seemed to fall asleep quickly, but Lovey tossed and turned. Maybe it was that she wasn't used to sleeping in someone else's bed. Or maybe it was that she wished she were sharing a bed with Thurston.

She knew she should wait till they had their hut back, but she felt very romantic that night. She at least wanted a moonlight stroll with her husband.

She put her peignoir over her negligee, her slippers onto her feet, and slipped out into the night. She made her way very quietly to the sailors' hut. She could dimly see the large, snoring figure of the Skipper in the lower hammock. She carefully nudged the figure on top, whispering, "My Love, let us stroll in the moonlight."

"Mrs. Howell!" gasped the man in the top hammock.

She was equally startled. "Professor?" she hissed.

"Yes," he whispered, "what are you doing here?"

"I thought Mr. Howell was sleeping in Gilligan's hammock."

"No, he asked me to trade with him. Sorry for the confusion."

"That's quite all right, My Boy. Go back to sleep."

She tiptoed out, hoping they hadn't woken the Skipper. She felt like she should've known. Thurston wouldn't have wanted to sleep in a hammock any more than she would've.

She hesitated before going to the Professor's hut. There was only the one bed there. Did she dare approach Thurston to share it? Not that she thought he'd mind, after the way he'd kissed her earlier. But would the Professor object?

She decided that if the Professor minded, he would've said something, since he knew she was looking for her husband. So she headed over.

Thurston was curled up in the Professor's bed, looking sweet with his teddy nestled beside him. Lovey smiled. She almost hated to disturb him.

"Thurston?" she said softly, approaching the bed.

His eyes opened immediately. "Lovey, is that you?"

"Of course. Who else on this island calls you Thurston?"

"My Dear, what are you doing here?"

"I missed you."

He didn't laugh at her. Instead he said, "Oh, Lovey, I missed you, too." Then he gently set Teddy on the night-stand and held his own arms out to her.

She happily went into them. And fifteen minutes later, he turned Teddy's face to the wall. And fifteen minutes after that, she hoped that the Gilligans were enjoying their wedding night as much as the Howells were. Then fifteen minutes after that, she fell asleep in her husband's arms for the first time in many, many years.


	23. Three G's

Ginger had thought it was all settled that the Professor would give his hut to the newlyweds that night. She wasn't sure how it had ended up being the Howells' hut. Obviously, the Professor was less enthusiastic about this marriage than Mrs. Howell was, so perhaps he'd objected to turning over his hut. Or maybe Mrs. Howell had suggested this, and he happily let her do the hosting.

And now Mrs. Howell was sleeping in Mary Ann's bed. There would be no girl-talk tonight, for the first time in eight years. Ginger always had the feeling that Mrs. Howell disapproved of her, because of her career, personality, and maybe even her hair color. Or maybe the innocent flirtation with Mr. Howell bothered his wife more than she usually let on.

The two women did get along better than they used to. After so long on the island together, they were like family, although not close. Ginger wondered if they would stay in contact after they left the island, if any of them would.

She closed her eyes and tried to sleep, but her head was too full of the events of the last couple days, particularly the Professor rescuing her and later slow-dancing with her. He probably would've rescued any of the others who was as a bad a swimmer as she was, but would he have given a kiss of life like that? And during the dancing, he'd held her so close it felt like their hearts were beating together. It seemed like they would dance forever, but they eventually noticed that the music had stopped and everyone else had gone to bed. So they self-consciously bade each other goodnight.

After awhile, she heard Mrs. Howell get out of bed. Ginger pretended to be asleep, but she took a peek and saw the society matron sneaking out into the night. Naughty lady! Well, she was probably going to her husband, although they wouldn't be able to do anything in a hammock a couple feet above the Skipper.

Ginger suddenly realized that she had the hut to herself. And she was very tempted to invite the Professor over. Of course, who knew how long Mrs. Howell would be gone? Well, the Professor had a hut of his own after all. Was this the night that he might finally share it?

She knew she was risking rejection, but at least she wouldn't have to face Mary Ann's innocent but knowing eyes when she'd slink back in shame, the shame of rejection or maybe the shame of something else. No, if she spent the night in the Professor's arms, she would feel proud, not shameful.

She wrapped her blanket around herself and went out into the moonlight. She knew she would have to be very quiet. She wouldn't want to run into the Howells. It would be embarrassing for them all.

She rapped lightly on the Professor's door but there was no answer. She slowly entered and saw that there was a man dozing in the bed. She went closer and quoted from a movie she was once in, _The Hula Girl and the Fullback_ _,_ "Forgive my daring, My Darling, but I had to see you, alone."

The man sat bolt upright and gasped, "Ginger!"  
"Mr. Howell?"

Then they both said, "What are you doing here?"

She hesitated, not wanting to tell him she was going to finally, truly throw herself at the Professor, although she supposed he could figure that out once he was more awake.

He broke the silence with, "Not that I'm not terribly flattered, but I love my wife and I could never hurt her."

She decided it would be better to admit to her crush on the Professor than to be seen as a would-be adulteress. "I know that. But I was actually looking for the Professor."  
"The Professor?"

"Well, this is his hut."  
"Oh, yes, of course." He chuckled. "You'll find him in Gilligan's hammock. We swapped for the night."

"Oh, I see. Well, thank you. And goodnight."  
"Goodnight and good luck."

She slipped out before she could become any more embarrassed. She returned to her hut. Mrs. Howell still wasn't back. Ginger wasn't sure if she dared visit the Professor in the sailors' hut. What if the Skipper woke up?

As more time passed and it became clear that Mrs. Howell was gone for the night, probably having found Mr. Howell in the Professor's hut after waking the Professor in Gilligan's hammock, she decided to be brave and go seek out the Professor again. She hoped that he wouldn't mind being woken a second time that night. She'd try to make it worth his while. She just hoped he wouldn't reject her with the Skipper as a witness.

* * *

Gilligan felt nervous enough being alone with Mary Ann in the Howells' hut. Then she sat down on Mrs. Howell's bed and patted beside her. He slowly sat down next to her. They were still in the clothes they'd changed into, in his case the tuxedo of Mr. Howell's that Mrs. Howell had altered for him. Mary Ann was wearing one of Ginger's gowns that she'd altered when she thought she was Ginger. He remembered how nervous he had felt then, with her behaving and talking like Ginger and wanting to rehearse a love scene.

"So we're married now," he said. It felt unreal. It wasn't even 36 hours since he caught the canoe.

"Yes, we are," she said. She seemed a little nervous, too.

He hesitated and then said, "Would you like to kiss?"

She nodded, so they kissed as shyly as they had to seal their wedding. No one was watching now of course, but he felt self-conscious. He still didn't have a clear idea what married people did in bed, but he felt like he wasn't ready for it. Except, he was in bed now, and the Skipper had warned him about that.

"Uh, I'd better go," he said, standing abruptly.

"Go?" She looked hurt and confused, and he hated seeing her like that.

"Uh, yeah, the Skipper said I shouldn't go to bed with you the night before we set out, because I need to save my energy."

Mary Ann looked amused yet miffed. "He said that?"

"Yeah, he said I should wait till we're all rescued before I share a bed with you."  
"What about in the canoe?"

"Well, we won't have a bed, so I think it'll be OK. And the Skipper's going to put two bedrolls in, so we won't have to share."

"Gilligan, he wasn't just talking about sharing a bed. He was talking about." She hesitated, blushing. "Sleeping together."  
"Yeah, I know. So I think I'd better not even stay in the same hut with you." He wasn't sure how close together they'd have to sleep, but he didn't want to take any chances that it would drain his energy.

"Gilligan, we don't have to—"

"I know, but just in case." He went towards the door. "I'll see you tomorrow, bright and early. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Gilligan." She looked like she was going to cry.

"Aw, gee, Mary Ann, don't be sad. We'll see lots of each other for the next few weeks. And we can sleep together in Hawaii."

"I suppose so. Can I at least have a goodnight kiss?"

"Yeah, of course."

She got out of bed and came over to the doorway. She put her arms around him and gave him a long, lingering kiss. He kissed back once he got over his surprise. He really did like kissing her. He hoped to do a lot of it in the canoe. It should be OK, as long as they didn't sleep together. Maybe they could sleep in shifts.

"Are you sure you have to go?" she asked when the kissing stopped so they could breathe again.

"Yeah, sorry. See you tomorrow."

"Goodbye, Gilligan."

"Goodnight, Mary Ann." He didn't want to go, but the Skipper had convinced him that everyone's rescue depended on this. It would be selfish to stay, no matter how much he wanted to keep kissing her.

So he went back to his hut. It was only when he saw a man sleeping in his hammock that he remembered the trade with the Howells. Well, maybe he could send Mr. Howell over to the girls' hut to get Mrs. Howell, and then they could go back to their own hut and send Mary Ann back to hers.

"Mr. Howell? Can I talk to you?" he whispered, not wanting to wake the Skipper.

"Gilligan?"

"Oh, hi, Professor. What are you doing here?"

"I traded with Mr. Howell."

"Oh, I see. Well, can I have my hammock back?"

"You're not spending the night with Mary Ann?"

"No, uh, no, not tonight."

"Well, where am I supposed to sleep?"

"Why don't you sleep with Ginger?"

"WHAT?"

"Since Mary Ann's bed is empty." It should be OK for the Professor to sleep there, since he didn't have to worry about saving his energy.

"Gilligan, I can't—Never mind. If you want your hammock, take it." The Professor left in a huff.

Gilligan felt bad about it but he'd apologize in the morning. Right now he just wanted to get some sleep.

He was almost asleep when he heard Ginger whisper, "Do you want to join me in my hut tonight?"

"Aw, gee, thanks, Ginger, but if I sleep with you, I won't get any more rest than if I slept with Mary Ann."

"Gilligan! What are you doing here?"

"This is my hut, my hammock. What are you doing here?"

"Sleep-walking. And sleep-talking." She drifted out before he could ask why she had sleep-invited him to sleep with her.

* * *

Captain Grumby slept peacefully through all of this, unaware of who was in the upper hammock or what late-night visitors arrived.


	24. And the Rest

When the Professor staggered out of the sailors' hut, he was only half awake. He wasn't sure where he should go. He couldn't sleep in his own hut, because he suspected that the Howells were having a romantic interlude. And he couldn't go to the girls' hut because Ginger would jump to the wrong conclusion.

Not that he wouldn't like to sleep in the same room with her, even if it was separate beds. When he'd rescued her, he'd willingly given her the kiss of life, as he would've for anyone, but it was true that it was still a kiss between them, a rare one that he had initiated. For a few moments, he forgot the other castaways and only thought of how sweet her lips were. And she had responded with enthusiasm as soon as she was able to.

Then when they'd slow-danced at the wedding reception, the Skipper happily cranking the water-logged but still-functioning record-player for them, the Professor felt like he could've danced all night, as long as Ginger was in his arms. He'd of course danced with the bride and Mrs. Howell as well, but as the evening went on, more and more of his dances were with Ginger.

But when he and Ginger realized they'd been left on their own, they were shy with each other. Something had changed between them in the last couple days, maybe because of this silly marriage between Gilligan and Mary Ann, romance being in the air and all that nonsense.

He'd started to come around a little to the marriage, and after all he had stood up as best man. But the fact that Gilligan would rather spend the night in his own hammock rather than with his new wife showed that he wasn't ready for marriage. Which was probably all to the good, considering how vital it was that Gilligan and Mary Ann go get help in the canoe. It did mean that the Professor had indeed overreacted to Ginger's seductiveness. She obviously didn't affect Gilligan the way she affected the Professor.

He knew he was going to have to discuss this all with Ginger, in as calm and rational manner as possible. But not that night, not alone in her hut.

That left him with only one option.

* * *

Mary Ann tossed and turned, unable to sleep. So this was her wedding night! She had made her mind up that, while she and Gilligan probably wouldn't perform the ultimate act of intimacy, they would at least be able to kiss and cuddle as much as they wanted to. She had been looking forward to it. But he had run out on her!

She understood that it wasn't entirely Gilligan's fault. And she didn't even totally blame the Skipper. She knew as well as anyone how much was counting on the canoe trip. But it was cruel, to Gilligan as well as to her, to interfere with their wedding night like this.

The more she thought about it, the more she felt like she and Gilligan were just pawns in the other's schemes. Yes, she was happy to be going in the canoe with him, and she was even happier to be married to him. But none of this had been their idea. It had all started with the Professor choosing her and Gilligan as the canoe crew, and that led to Mrs. Howell marrying them off, and now everyone else seemed to want to control the situation, including who slept where.

She supposed part of the trouble was that she and Gilligan were the youngest on the island. When they arrived, neither of them was old enough to vote in the United States, since the voting age hadn't yet been lowered from 21 to 18. When there was an election on the island, she'd eagerly cast her vote for Gilligan. It wasn't just that she was sweet on him. She'd already begun to sense that he was underestimated by the others. And that was still true. The others, even Ginger, who wasn't much older, although more worldly, sometimes acted like Mary Ann and Gilligan were children, or teenagers at best.

And perhaps their development, his in particular, had been somewhat arrested by living on the island. When the Mosquitoes landed on the island, there was a definite generation gap in the reaction of the castaways, with her and Gilligan as enthusiastic fans, Ginger as appreciative but not out of her head, and everyone from the Professor on up as not at all appreciative of the loud rock music.

But it wasn't as if she and Gilligan didn't have their hard-working, responsible sides, too. Yet, time and again, their opinions and suggestions were dismissed. In her case, she knew it was partly that she was a woman. The three older men liked to make decisions without including the women, although Mrs. Howell's wealth kept her from being entirely dismissed, and Ginger had her own ways of getting her points across. Mary Ann more often ended up grumbling to herself, or pasting a smile on, pretending she was OK with whatever "the grown-ups" decided.

As for Gilligan, sometimes the men reluctantly included him as one of them, but too often they saw him as foolish. She knew better. Gilligan had a way of cutting through the manure to the heart of an issue. It was one of the things she loved about him. But she did wish he would be more assertive. Sometimes she egged him on, as when the Skipper faked his own kidnapping and Gilligan couldn't get the others to treat him as the Skipper's chosen replacement. Often though, she and Gilligan went along with things, no matter what their reservations.

Still, this was different. This was their marriage! She sighed and reminded herself that she and Gilligan would be on their own starting the next day, and they would no longer have to follow what other people thought was best for them.

She tried again to fall asleep, but then she heard the door creak open. She held out her arms and cried, "Oh, Gilligan, you came back!" Not only was she happy to be reunited with her husband, but she was proud of him for rejecting what the Skipper told him.

"No, Mary Ann, it's I."  
"Professor! What are you doing here?"

"Gilligan took back his hammock."

"What were you doing in his hammock?"

"Mr. Howell and perhaps Mrs. Howell are in my bed."

Mary Ann felt very confused. Perhaps she wasn't the only one who had become a pawn.

"And now I need a place to sleep."

"Well, you can't sleep here!" Mrs. Howell wouldn't be the only one to be shocked if he did, even if he used the other bed. She hated to think what conclusions Ginger would draw, and even good-hearted Gilligan might be suspicious if his bride was shacking up with another man on their wedding night.

"I can if you go back to your own hut."

"Oh." She sighed. She might as well. There was no point in staying at the Howells' any longer, especially since it was clear that Gilligan would not be returning. "All right."

"Thank you," he said, collapsing onto Mr. Howell's bed.

She got out of Mrs. Howell's bed. She had not put on any of her borrowed lingerie, since Gilligan had left before she could change. She was in fact wearing an old shirt of the Professor's, one she had "borrowed" eight years before and slept in most nights. She couldn't help smiling to herself at how Aunt Martha would react if she saw her niece now. But it was perfectly innocent between herself and the Professor, and always had been. She respected and admired him, but Gilligan was the only man on the island she'd ever cared for in that way.

And now here she was going back to the same bed she'd slept in as a single girl. The more things change.

"Mrs. Howell?" Ginger called out.

"No, it's me."

Ginger sat up in bed. "Don't tell me you and Gilligan had a spat!"

"Of course not. How could anyone argue with someone as sweet as Gilligan?"

"So what are you doing here?"

"It's a long story. But right now I need to get some sleep."

TO BE CONTINUED...

(The sequel is called "Maiden Voyage" and it's rated M.)


End file.
